Salvation
by JoshTheWriter
Summary: The end of an era is upon us. The second Ghost Empire has fallen, torn down by the dragon of the West. A new generation of heroes must rise to defend their homes, even as a darker threat rises above the spectre of war. Medieval AU lightly based off Pokemon Conquest. T for violence, implied sex, and mature themes.
1. Nightmare

_Welcome to Salvation! This is a work that has been a labour of love since my teenage years. What you see here is the latest iteration of the story. It's a Conquest AU, something that seems like it should be amazing. Please drop a review and let me know what you think of this! Anything is appreciated, from little blurbs to page long deconstructions!_

_I was initially interested in the idea of this fic after playing Pokemon Conquest. However, I don't really think that the game did the idea justice. Pokemon fits very well into a fantasy story and this is the result of that idea. They just work perfectly because they are fantasy creatures._

_This is a story set in the medieval era. It is very much a fantasy epic. There will be death, and violence, and probably sex. Please be warned before you begin. There probably won't be any lemons, but that ain't my cup of tea anyways. _

_So without further ado, enjoy **Salvation**!_

* * *

_**Arc 1: Death of Innocence**_

_**Nightmare**_

_The chains are broken. An empire falls._

* * *

The sun hung lazily over the peaks, casting jagged shadows across the ruined and shattered plateau. The ancient city that lay nestled into the mountainside burned in agony, smouldering fires spewing acrid black smoke into the pristine mountain air. A ball of flame launched from one of the siege engines surrounding the city. It slammed into a watchtower, reducing it to a pile of burning rubble. Azure flames ripped through the cobblestone streets, torching homes and storefronts with impunity. The few men who still dared defy their fate manned the walls of the citadel, determined to defend their queen until the last.

A lone dragon soared above the city, her rider peering down at the chaos unfolding below. A dark cape flapped out behind him, billowing in the gale that whipped over the peaks. He shivered slightly, the cold biting down to his core. He shrugged off the discomfort, ignoring the shudder that ran through his body. He bore the blood of the dragon, and dragons did not show weakness.

Lance couldn't help but grin as the pride of Johto's oppressor burned at his hand. Dragons ran rampant through the ancient streets of the Indigo Plateau, savaging the few men that hadn't managed to retreat to the citadel. A grim smile crossed his face as the column of men marching through the city ground to a halt at the iron-wrought gates of the citadel. A pair of ballistae bolts sailed from the battlements, skewering the shield wall and shattering the formation. Now the battle would truly begin, and Lance was going to enjoy it.

A cloaked spectre emerged from his shadows, wreathed in darkness. It tipped its head in a polite nod and opened its cloak as it chanted in an arcane language. Darkness streamed out of the open cloak, taking the form of a man's head. A dirty mop of blond hair emerged, tendrils of smoky shadows streaming off the man's pale white skin. "My King, I have failed you, " he said. "Agatha has summoned her wraiths. She has broken my seal on the city."

"You have not failed, Morty, " Lance replied, his powerful voice carrying above the din of battle. "She is a powerful medium with centuries of experience. She will not give up her crown without a fight."

The sky seemed to darken as he spoke, clouds turning black as they gathered over the city. The peaceful sunset disappeared, swallowed up by the menacing clouds that formed at unnatural speeds. A savage grin loomed large above the city, malevolent intent radiating from the ancient gengar's formless smile as it appeared in the shadows cast by the clouds.

"Protect the army, " Lance ordered, not even sparing a glance for Morty. He knew that the medium would follow his orders without question. The man had never questioned him before and Lance doubted that he would start now. "I will handle her."

He felt Morty's presence disappear and spared a glance at his dissolving form. The mismagius winked at him knowingly as it dissolved into the void. He turned his attention back towards Agatha's prized gengar, an inhuman fire burning behind his eyes. He leaned in towards his dragonite's ears, his voice rippling with draconic power. "Come now, Betherian. Let us end this war."

His dragon tossed back her head, roaring a challenge to the wraith that waited above them. She flapped her powerful wings twice, drawing even with the wispy shadow as she soared past it. She roared again, azure flames streaming from her maw as she banked hard and swooped around the gengar.

Agatha hung in the air behind her ghost, her body wrapped in a layer of smoky darkness. Her long grey hair blew wildly in the spectral winds that whipped angrily around the Ghost Queen. The dragonfire flew back at the dragon and her tamer, repelled by the ghostly winds that tore through the atmosphere.

Lance raised his cape, shielding himself with the material as a storm of dragonfire washed over him. He lowered the smoking cape, glaring at the Ghost Queen. She hung in the same place as before, a grin crossing her face. She crossed her arms, looking at him with an unimpressed stare.

"I had expected more, " she said coldly, her voice carrying on the wind. It was cold and quiet, barely more than a whisper that seemed to come from just behind Lance's head. "Attempting to separate me from my pets was clever. However, it was ultimately futile. You will die just the same."

The orange dragon swooped in, abandoning her ranged attacks. She raked an outstretched claw through the gengar's immaterial form. Betherian roared as she tore through the gaseous ghost, purple mist slipping through her claws unharmed.

The gengar cackled madly, reforming behind the dragon and her tamer. It dove into Lance from behind, driving its ghostly claws into his back. It sank into his body, a quick attempt to possess the would-be usurper. Lance drew in a sharp breath, steeling his mind for a mental assault. Waves of nightmares crashed into his mental barriers, nearly overwhelming him. Violent images of rotting corpses and broken dragons dragged their shattered forms towards the tamer.

The nightmares faded for a moment, and Lance struck back with all the force his battered mind could muster. The gengar screeched in pain as he expelled it from his body, forcing it to manifest in front of Betherian. The dragonite's waiting maw slammed shut on the gengar's midsection, bisecting the ghost with ease. Inky black blood poured out over Betherian's jaws, staining her brilliant orange scales a dark purple. She shook her head viciously, tearing the wraith to pieces as Lance again pulled his cape up over his face. The acidic blood splashed against his cape, burning his skin where it seeped through the fabric.

His victory was short lived. Agatha leapt into action, grabbing him by his cape with a pale and bony arm. She tore him from the back of his dragon, throwing him into the clouds above with unnatural ease. A horde of wraiths streamed off of Agatha's shadows, haunter and ghastly launching themselves at Betherian and swarming over her scaly hide. She cried out in pain, dozens of infernal claws tearing at every inch of her body. Agatha rocketed after Lance, leaving the dragon for her ghosts as they dragged her down to the surface.

Lance tumbled head over heels, desperately flailing about in the hopes that Betherian could find and catch him. His throat and lungs burned viciously from the cloud, making clear that it was no natural formation. He emerged from the cloud for a moment, falling towards the city below as he sucked down a breath of clean air. Agatha slammed into him as he fell, grabbing him by the throat and carrying him back into the cloud of smog. The acrid smell invaded his nose as he choked for air, kicking wildly at Agatha's chest.

She held him at an arm's length, unbothered by the poisonous air slowly killing Lance. "You're strong, boy. But stronger than you have tried to take this throne from me." She pulled him in closer to her, wisps of darkness wrapping around the both of them. "I'm going to enjoy watching you scream, " she whispered. Tendrils of black smoke streamed off her body, billowing around the two of them and pulling Lance into a cold embrace. "Show me what it is that you fear, " she said, demonic undertones straining to break through the façade. "Show me your worst nightmares, and watch them come true."

A pair of cackling shadows appeared over Agatha's shoulders. Mad grins spread across the gengars' mouths, black shadows streaming from their maw and enveloping Lance. The darkness swallowed them whole, and Lance lost all sense of perspective. He fell back, plummeting through the darkness to what was surely his death. He closed his eyes, preparing himself for the end.

* * *

The gates groaned, wrought iron bars bending under the immense pressure. The great steel serpent straining against the gate roared and forced its armoured head further into the minuscule opening. The gates groaned as they yielded to the steelix's determined assault.

Another pair of ballistae launched their bolts into the Johtan formation, punching a hole in their shield wall. A hail of arrows slammed into the opening, felling another half dozen men as they found their mark. The mass of men shifted, adjusting to the opening in their line seamlessly. A second volley of arrows arced from the walls of the citadel, hammering into the hastily reformed shield wall.

A man in leather armour pushed through the crowd of men behind the gates, forcing himself closer to the charizard looming above the crowd. Purple accents hung from his wrists, the kind only worn by fuchsian ninjas. "Lord Marshal Oak, " he shouted hurriedly. "The gates will never hold!"

The charizard's rider turned his head, finding the man in the crowd. "Then we shall hold them ourselves, " he declared. He turned his head towards the gate, eying the groaning metal warily. "Master Li, " he called, searching the crowd for the master fighter.

"Lord Marshal, " the master replied, bowing deeply as he stepped into the circle of men around Oak. His usually white robes were stained a mottled brown, splashes of bright red marring the fabric.

Oak grimaced, knowing that he was trading lives for time. "Hold the gates, " he ordered. "When that steelix breaks through, you turn it to scrap."

The steelix let out a triumphant roar as it forced the gates open. The fighting master leapt from the Kantoan ranks, charging towards the massive serpent with his pokemon at his sides. He ducked under the steelix's tail, sliding under the massive blade. He rolled to his feet and drove a heel into one of the serpent's joints, denting the thick steel. The steelix growled and turned its head to crush the little human.

A fist wrapped in flames slammed into the side of the serpent's head, knocking it against the side of the gatehouse. The hitmonchan leapt into another punch, hammering its flaming fists into the steelix's sagging skull and superheating the beast's steel carapace as its master flipped away from the thrashing pokemon.

The steel serpent whined in pain, lashing out violently at the little hitmonchan pummeling the side of its skull. It slammed the lithe fighter into a wall, its bulk unavoidable in the close quarters. With a satisfied grunt it smeared the hitmonchan across the walls of the gatehouse, leaving a bloody stain on the stone.

"Rusty, return!" shouted a woman's voice. She raised a pokeball, intent on returning her pokemon before the Kantoans could do any more permanent damage.

The steelix perked up its head, glancing back at its trainer momentarily. A flying kick knocked it into unconsciousness. It collapsed into the ground, eyes rolling into the back of its head. A beam of light flashed from the woman's hand, dissolving the unconscious serpent and recalling it to its ball. The hitmonlee leapt backwards over the advancing line of Kantoan soldiers, allowing the men to plug the gap that Rusty had created.

The line of Kantoans locked their shields, forming an impenetrable wall in the ruined gatehouse. The looming shadow of a charizard stood behind the line, growling at the upstart Johtans that dared attempt to overthrow the queen. Lord Marshal Oak sat on the charizard's back, clad in a simple set of leather armour. A mighty oak tree was emblazoned on his chest. The charizard's rider drew a blade, holding it towards the sky.

"Turn back!" he shouted, voice booming over the field of battle. "You will find no glory here." His charizard tossed back its head and roared as if to punctuate his point.

A cacophony of challenges erupted from the body of the Johtan army. Dozens of flashes of light grew into the hulking forms of angry pokemon, their cries mixing with the Johtan war chant.

The Lord Marshal turned his head to the side and raised his arm. "Men of the East!" he shouted. "Today we hold back the dragon! Give no quarter, for your enemy will do the same." He thrust his blade into the sky, shouting a war cry that echoed across the Kantoan line.

The Johtan line broke as they charged towards the open gatehouse. The ballistae fired again, deflecting harmlessly into the dirt as a psychic barrier sprung into place. A hail of arrows launched from the archers on the walls, piercing the barrier and felling dozens of the charging Johtans. Hundreds more poured into the gatehouse, slamming into the Kantoan line.

Lord Marshal Oak urged his firedrake into the sky. She soared over the gatehouse and bellowed a challenge to the army at the gates. "Down, Flare, " he ordered. "Bathe them in fire."

She tucked her wings back against her torso, diving towards the ground. Her wings snapped out to catch the air and carry them just above the ground. A stream of flames washed over the Johtans, cooking a line of men within their armour. Pained screams reached Oak's ears as he passed over, the smell of burning flesh filling the air.

Flare flapped her wings twice, rising into the sky once again. Oak glanced down over his shoulder, watching in grim horror as the Kantoan line started to crumble under a barrage of elemental attacks. "Flare, down."

Flare tucked in her wings again, plummeting towards the earth. Even as she dropped, the Kantoan line broke under sustained pressure. Johtan soldiers forced themselves into the gaps created by their pokemon, splintering the Kantoan line in dozens of places.

Flare's wings snapped out, slowing her descent. She slammed into the ground, crushing a trio of Johtans with her clawed feet. She roared, urging the flame on her tail higher as she flapped her wings. A storm of flames whipped off of her tail, spinning around her as she added to the fire spin.

Lord Marshal Oak leapt off Flare's back as the firestorm engulfed the Johtans surrounding her, tossing a ball into the air. It burst open as he landed, two hundred pounds of blastoise spilling out onto the field. "Swiftstream, rapid spin!" he shouted as he rolled to his feet.

The blastoise leapt into the air with more grace than its bulk would have suggested. It tucked back into its shell, spinning like a top as it crashed through the mob of Johtans swarming the gatehouse. It carved a path through the Johtan formation, leaving a bloody trail of crushed bodies in its wake.

Oak turned away from his blastoise, driving his blade through a Johtan's chest as the man hacked away at a fallen soldier. His blade punched through the simple leather easily, impaling him through the chest. The Johtan collapsed as Oak tore his blade free and Oak swore, realizing that the man on the ground was already dead. Oak spun, bringing his shield up as a Johtan soldier leapt at him. He deflected the man's blade to the side, driving his own blade into a gap in the man's armour. He dropped, clutching at his shoulder as Oak tore his blade free in a spray of blood.

"Lord Marshal!" shouted a familiar voice. Master Li leapt from the Kantoan ranks, delivering a punishing kick to the chest of an onrushing Johtan. He grabbed the elbow of another Johtan as the melee crushed closer towards the Kantoan general, disarming the man with quick twist. He deftly grabbed the blade as it fell, driving it into the Johtan's stomach as the man stumbled. "We must go!" he shouted over the din of battle. "This battle is lost. We can ill afford to lose the war." His hitmonlee landed beside him, driving the pair of Johtans that rushed to avenge their fallen comrades back.

"No, " replied Oak calmly. "Hold them back! Have faith in your queen!" He pointed to the sky, watching the flashes of ominous light burst through the unnatural cloud cover. "What is dead cannot die!"

The fighting master nodded, his chest heaving with exhaustion. "What is dead cannot die!" he shouted back.

The chant echoed through the melee, Kantoan soldiers taking heart and repeating the chant even as scores of them fell to Johtan swords and spears. Slowly but surely, the Kantoan forces were being pushed further into the courtyard.

Flare roared, unleashing a torrent of flames that staunched the tide of men streaming through the gatehouse. The Johtan formation crumbled as men screamed in pain, flames cooking them alive inside their armour. The flamethrower ended as swiftstream spun back through the gatehouse, coated in a layer of crimson liquid. He popped back out of his shell, looking around at the carnage left by Flare's attack.

"Thunder!"

A bolt of lightning dropped from the sky, slamming into Swiftstream from above. Oak screamed a wordless cry as his blastoise convulsed in silence, electricity coursing through every fibre of his being. The moment seemed to last an eternity as the bolt split and arced into a half dozen Johtans that Flare had missed. Finally, mercifully, the bolt of lightning vanished. Swiftstream stood unnaturally still, muscles paralyzed by the untold amounts of electricity coursing through his system.

A ball of crackling energy barrelled through the gatehouse, ramming Swiftstream in the chest. The ball of energy exploded into a brilliant display of electricity, sending the blastoise sailing through the air. It landed among the ranks of Kantoans, crushing a pair of soldiers that hadn't noticed the flying pokemon.

Oak grimaced as he stared down the Johtan that had just finished off his blastoise. A part of him screamed in rage and grief, but he forced it down before his stoic façade could break. "Lord Gold, " he spat, glaring at the Johtan general as he waltzed through the remains of the gatehouse. A proud ampharos followed him, electricity crackling along its powerful tail. "I had expected you sooner, considering that your tricks held the dead at bay."

Lord Gold smiled under his helm. He reached up and lifted the helm from his head. A jagged cut marred his face, blood leaking from the hastily stitched wound. "You knew that they stood no chance against the might of the dragon!" he shouted. "So why spend their lives on a useless endeavour?"

Oak's expression faltered for a moment, mourning his friends. Flint and Kasumi had known the risks of their strategy, but insisted on it nonetheless. "Kanto will thank them for their sacrifice, " he replied. "They knew what the risks were." He looked up at the sky, desperately hoping for a miracle. Streams of shadows ripped through the sky, descending on the ancient city like scavengers drawn to carrion. Oak looked back down at his opponent, readying his weapon. "As do I, " he said calmly.

He heard footsteps at his side and spared a glance. Master Li nodded to him, his hitmonlee limping along behind him. "As does all of Kanto," said the master fighter. "We are prepared to do what is necessary."

Lord Gold shook his head. "I do not wish for more bloodshed. We were friends once, " he replied. "Kanto has suffered under the rule of the dead. Join us! We can welcome a new era of peace and cooperation, without the cold grip of a dead hand on our throats."

Lord Oak glanced up, desperately hoping that his Queen's aid would arrive. "The time for that is long passed, " he said, a tinge of regret seeping into his gruff voice. "Too much blood has been spilled in the name of your blasted dragon." He raised his blade, one eye on the plummeting horde of ghosts. "What is dead cannot die!"

The air above the citadel seemed to bend in protest, thousands of ghosts snuffing the fading sunlight out with their numbers.

Lord Gold's eyes widened, staring in horror at the hordes of the dead that swarmed over the city. His head snapped to the side, searching the ranks of men. "Will! Morty!" he shouted. "Hold them back!"

He saw Morty nod, his eyes wide at the prospect of holding back the ghosts. He held out a hand, pulsating purple energy swirling in his palm. A slender man in pale purple robes pushed himself towards Morty and locked eyes with Gold. He turned back to look at the sky as a stream of the ghosts screamed towards them.

A translucent barrier crackled and flashed to life, forming a dome over the citadel. The barrier groaned and bulged as thousands of ghosts threw themselves against it with reckless abandon.

The sky screamed in agony as the souls of the dead shrieked forth from the shadows. The poor souls outside the barrier didn't stand a chance, thousands of ghosts abandoning their mad assault on the citadel. Screams of pain and horror pierced the air, joined by the mad cackling of the dead.

"So be it," stated the Johtan general. "You will join your beloved Queen in death." He pulled his helm over his head and drew a blade from the scabbard on his hip. "For Johto," he said calmly.

Oak grimaced and gripped his sword a little tighter. He glanced up at Flare, and shot her a look of grim determination. "For Viridian," he said calmly. Flare nodded, her eyes locked with the typhlosion's. Oak roared a wordless cry as he charged, pain for the loss of his friends and pokemon fuelling his rage. He had traded countless lives, stalling until the Queen could summon the ghostly army she commanded. Now, cut off from that army, there was only one way out. The Kantoan ranks erupted towards the Johtan army, making one final desperate push

Master Li leapt over him, driving his foot into the chest of a shirtless mass of muscles that dwarfed him in size. The massive man barely flinched, shrugging off a blow that could fell castle walls. He retaliated with a brutal punch that drove the wind from Master Li's chest. The lithe fighter staggered backwards, wobbling on his feet. The mountain of muscle leapt forward, delivering a powerful right hook that dropped Master Li to the ground. The mountain of a man descended on the prone master, raining vicious blows with meaty fists.

Oak's blade met Lord Gold's with a resounding crash. The younger Johtan danced away, deftly avoiding the Lord Marshal's furious attack. The remains of the two armies slammed together, throwing men through the air with the force of their clash. Blasts of fire and lightning erupted from the ranks of each army, cutting swaths of men down with each attack.

Lord Gold stepped in closer to Oak, locking their blades together. "Look around you!" he shouted over the chaos. "This war is over!"

"Never!" retorted Oak. He stepped back, driving Lord Gold back with a vicious cross-swing. The two men stared at each other, grudging respect clear between them. Oak raised his blade, readying himself for the fight of his life. Flare growled at the Johtan's pokemon, eager to enact revenge for the blastoise she had considered a brother. Oak released another pokemon, a mighty venasaur that bellowed a challenge at the ampharos.

With a wordless cry, the two men charged each other. Their pokemon mirrored them, slamming together in a mortal tangle of flashing claws and snapping fangs. Whipping vines and blasts of electricity tore through the air, tearing down any men close by indiscriminately. For better or worse, the battle was going to end soon. Oak just prayed that he would come out of it alive.

* * *

Lance forged his way through the blackness, formless claws tearing and scratching at any exposed skin. He pulled his cape up to shield his face as a giggling haunter lunged for his throat, grimacing as the ghost reduced his favourite garment to tatters. He grunted and pushed through the horde of ghosts, stumbling into a thick fog as the ghosts vanished with a fading cackle.

"Show yourself, witch!" Lance shouted into the fog. He reached for the sheath at his side but found it empty. He cautiously waded into the spectral mist, eyes searching for any movement. A figure stumbled out of the mist, clutching at her side and holding the stump of her arm against her belly. Her silver-blue hair fell to her waist, matted to her bloodstained armour.

Lance rushed forwards, catching his cousin as she collapsed. "Clair, " he started, his voice wavering at the sight of her. Blood ran freely from the terrible gash on her side, streaming down her armour and over Lance's hands. Her left arm was a bloody stump, amputated just above her elbow. A latticework of burns had chewed away at her face, leaving a nearly unrecognizable wreck behind. "Who did this to you?" He could feel the life leaving her body while he watched. For the first time in ages, Lance was helpless.

Clair's mouth twisted into a sadistic grin despite the sickly black blood that leaked down her face. Clair grabbed Lance by the back of his head, the sudden outburst of strength holding him in place. She dug the stump of her arm into his stomach, eliciting a pained grunt. "You did, dear cousin, " she coughed out, blood and spittle splattering against Lance's face. "You and your blasted feral,"

"No, " Lance stated flatly. He pulled back, wrenching himself free of Clair's deathly cold grip. "Betherian would never…" His voice trailed off as Clair struggled to her feet.

Clair's back snapped in half, an unseen force crumpling the proud warrior as if she were a sheet of paper. A wet gurgle escaped her lips as she stared up at Lance in pure horror, her body contorted in impossible angles.

"Clair, " Lance whispered, his courage fading with his cousin's life. "I am sorry."

Clair spoke again, her voice bubbling with demonic undertones. "Your sorrow is worthless, " she hissed as her body collapsed. She giggled, and Lance felt a shiver run down his spine.

"You are not real, " he said, a blatant attempt to calm himself. He stepped back, grasping again at his empty sheath. "None of this is real, " he said.

Clair unfolded, her spine wrenching back into place with a sickening crack. "Of course it is real, " she spat, Agatha's voice straining underneath Clair's. "It just hasn't happened yet. After all, this is your nightmare."

Lance roared in anger, feeling the blood of the dragons quicken in his veins. "Get out of my head, witch." He took a step towards the illusion of his cousin and swung a fist.

A gengar burst from Clair's chest pinning Lance to the floor. The illusion faded into the spectral mist, leaving Agatha towering over the dragon tamer. "Not real enough?" she asked. She grinned savagely. "Perhaps we should dig deeper?"

The mist swirled around Agatha's form, obscuring her from Lance's view. It dove towards him, forcing itself into every orifice as Lance screamed in pain and terror.

* * *

He shuddered awake, coughing violently on the bitter taste in his mouth. He rolled to his side, retching on the taste of death and decay. He sucked in a breath, breathing in the smoky scent of a wood burning fire. The sweet tang of nostalgia invaded his nose, bringing back a horrific memory.

He sat up, searching for the mirror that he knew sat in the corner of the cramped room. A younger version of himself stared back, head wrapped in bandages.

The dragon at the foot of the bed lifted her head, fearful of the sudden movement. It cooed and slithered closer to Lance, curling around his arm happily.

All seemed right with the world, and Lance forgot he was dreaming for a moment. He ran his hands down the dratini's scaly hide, fingers tracing the innumerable scars that marred the dragon's hide. The wound on her side had yet to heal and Lance wondered if the poison had faded yet.

The door burst open, and the aroma of cooking pecha berries wafting into the cramped bedroom. The shadow of a man stood in the door, blood dripping off his trembling hands. "What have you done?" the man asked, voice dripping with draconic power. The room seemed to reverberate with energy, echoes of power striking a chord within Lance himself. "You bring a feral into this home? Disrespect me?"

"No, you don't understand. She's not feral!" Lance said as the figure stepped into the room. He stepped in front of the trembling dratini, defiant before the monster in front of him. "Father, what have you done?" He peered past the shadow of a man blocking his doorway, finding the mangled corpse of his mother laying on the stone floors. "What have you done?!"

He knew what came next. Years had passed, and he would never forget the horror of that day. His father moved towards him, reaching out with one of his impossibly large hands. Lance struck fast and true, crushing the man's windpipe with a lightning-fast blow. The shadow of his father collapsed, clutching at his throat. The look of fear on his face seared into Lance's mind, pulling memories that he had long forgotten back to the surface.

The floor dropped out from beneath him, plunging him back into darkness. He slammed against the bars of a steel cage, the cold metal burning his skin with its very touch.

The air swirled with black currents of energy, an ominous chill running down Lance's spine. A dim blue flame illuminated the room, casting flickering shadows across the walls of the ancient chamber. The elders of Blackthorn sat in a circle around him, coldly watching his struggle from afar.

Lance strained against the cold steel, his hands screaming in pain as he pulled at the metal cage. He locked his eyes on one of the elders, an ember of draconic fire flickering to life in his chest. "Release me, " he demanded in a voice that rippled with power.

The elder's eyes opened and Lance's heart skipped a beat. The balding man's eyes were soulless black pits, devouring Lance's attention and sanity the longer he watched. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, swollen and black with rot. He drew in a slow, rattling breath that chilled Lance down to his core. "You are an abomination, like your father before you. The blood does not lie." The elder cocked his head to the side, viscous black tar falling from his putrid mouth. "Your recklessness has cost this council dearly, in reputation and resources."

The cage flung open, dropping Lance onto the ice-cold floor. He struggled to his feet, gravity dragging him down even as he attempted to rise. The cold seeped into his bones, and Lance could feel his strength fading as the blood of the dragon ran cold in his veins.

The elders spoke again, their voices joining together in an unholy chorus of decay. "You will no longer sully the name of the Wataru Clan." A rush of wind and a pained groan above him drew his attention. "You and your feral beast shall pay the price."

Betherian screeched in pain as her cage lowered from the blackness, a sound that Lance had never heard the dragon make. She slammed into the bars of the cage, thrashing about madly at the cold touch of the steel. Every thrash tore through armoured scales as of they were paper, showering Lance with thick globs of blood.

Lance fell to his knees, staring up at his caged dragon in dismay. "This is not real, " he said, a vain attempt to calm his own racing heart. "None of this is." He reached for his blade again, finding an empty sheath in its place. "And that includes me." He closed his eyes, calming his breathing until the sound of his heartbeat was the only sound he could hear. He closed his hand on the hilt of his blade, tearing it free of its sheath with a flourish.

"Impossible," droned the elders. The inky black ceiling swelled and undulated, ancient forces furious with Lance's defiance. "None can break free of the nightmare."

Lance raised his blade, the dragonblood quickening in his veins despite the cold. Johto had chosen him to be their champion, and he would not fall to some petty illusion. "Perhaps your nightmares work on lesser men, but I am no lesser man." He gripped his blade tighter, whipping his blood into a frenzy. He looked up at the caged dragon above him and grimaced, knowing what he had to do.

The cage opened, and Betherian landed in front of him. Her scales were decayed and rotten, turned a pale and sickly green instead of their usual vibrant orange. Her jaws hung open, the stench of decay wafting out over her swollen black tongue. The dragon's eyes were glazed over as it lazily looked down at the defiant tamer.

Lance reached out with his very soul, looking for the familiar sensation of Betherian's essence. He recoiled at the touch of a cold, dead void. Betherian growled a low gurgling noise that took him by surprise. Lance steeled himself for what was to come and planted his feet. "And that is no dragon."

The undead abomination before him roared as if to dispute that. It took a step towards him, its armoured claws thudding on the rough-hewn stone. It swiped at him, swinging wildly at the tamer.

Lance ducked under the attack, burying his own blade up to the hilt in the abomination's gut. Betherian shrieked in pain, mad cackling interspersed with the dying dragon's cries. The undead dragon's scales split open at the touch of Lance's blade, spewing a geyser of acidic blood onto the dragon tamer.

He leapt back, tearing his blade free and stepping back to look at the dragon's convulsing form. The illusion shattered, scales fading into a shadowy purple form. The gengar groaned, clawed arms clutching the gash in its belly.

"So they can be hurt in the dream, " Lance muttered. He jumped forward, driving his blade into the centre of the ghost. It wailed a mournful cry and dissolved into a steaming puddle of ectoplasm. Lance turned up his nose at the goo, turning away from the sickly smell.

The chamber shook violently, the darkness above Lance swirling madly. Clawed arms reached for him from the blackness, thick, smoking tar dripping from the points of each claw. Lance closed his eyes, ignoring the nightmares reaching for him from the shadows.

* * *

His throat and lungs burned, the poisonous smog ripping and tearing at his esophagus as he sucked down another breath. Lance opened his eyes, the flickers of dragonfire in his chest growing larger.

Agatha stared back at him as one of the gengar over her shoulders faded from existence. She scowled, looking down at the dragon tamer held in her grasp. "That's two of my wraiths that you've banished now, " she said coldly. She pulled him in closer, her hand still clamped down on his throat with an iron grip. "You will not have the chance to do so again."

Despite the fact that he was held by his throat hundreds of feet in the air, in a cloud of smog, with no sign of his dragon, Lance grinned. "Just watch me, " he choked, forcing the words out through Agatha's grasp.

Agatha sneered and released him, bringing a cackle of glee from her remaining ghost. He hung there for a moment, a tendril of shadowy energy holding him in place. Agatha smirked as she released him, content to let gravity do her work for her.

Lance felt the draconic power fade and fear take over as he plummeted away from Agatha. "Betherian!" he shouted, desperate for the dragon to hear him. He shouted again, his voice lost in the rush of wind.

An orange blur whizzed by, snagging his tattered cape in her jaws. Lance grunted in pain as he was violently jerked out of his fall. He grabbed tightly to his dragon's torso, clinging on for dear life as she flared her wings desperately.

Betherian spun in the air, slamming through the translucent barrier over the citadel and shattering it to pieces. She hit the dirt with force, roaring in pain as she skidded along the cobblestone. Dozens of men scrambled for cover as the dragon crashed through their formation and ground to a halt in the middle of the melee.

Lance stumbled to his feet, tearing his blade free of its sheath. Betherian stirred weakly, slowly lumbering back to her feet. She tested her wings and grunted in pain, one of her wings limply laying broken at her side.

"We'll get that looked after once this is over, " Lance said. He patted Betherian's side, grinning up at her despite the carnage surrounding them. "Thank you for catching me."

The dragonite looked down at him and snorted as if to ask what else she was supposed to do. Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing as she glared at the lone man who dared challenge them.

A bolt of lightning erupted from her horns, frying the man where he stood. Lance shook his head as the man collapsed, still convulsing madly as electricity coursed through him. All around them, the few remaining Kantoans fled on flying mounts as their morale finally broke. None dared to stay and fight in the presence of the dragonlord.

A chill ran down Lance's spine and he looked up. The sky ran black with rivers of shadows as the hordes of ghosts raced across the sky.

"Your Grace, " shouted a voice from the crowd of soldiers. Morty emerged from the bafflefield, his gengar hovering malevolently over his shoulder. Lance shuddered momentarily at the sight of the ghost, stopping himself before one of his men noticed the fear in their King. Morty looked up at the skies in dismay. "Is the Queen dead?"

"No, " he replied. "merely angry." He looked up at the sky, picking Agatha's floating form out of the shadows easily. "How goes the battle?"

"Their Lord Marshal has fallen, your turncoat did his job well," Morty said. "The rest of the remaining Kantoans fled the moment that you broke that barrier. The citadel has fallen and the battle is won." He looked up at the swarms of ghosts streaming through the sky and grimaced. "Although, those ghosts have devastated our armies. We can ill afford to continue our campaign into Kanto without returning home to gather more men."

Lance stared up at the sky, eyes locked onto Agatha as she approached. "The battle is not over, " he stated coldly. "The queen still lives."

Morty looked up, following Lance's gaze. He stepped back in horror as the sky blackened completely, plunging the ancient castle into darkness. Only the eerie glow of the fires burning throughout the city lent any light to the scene. "The King is here!" he shouted. "Defend the King!"

Lord Gold emerged from the ranks of men, his armour dented and leaking blood in several places. His pokemon stood at his sides, wounded and weary from their own battles with the Lord Marshal's pokemon. "Hold fast!" he shouted over the crowd. "Form up on me! The battle is nearly won." He turned to Lance, bowing his head with respect.

"Well done, " Lance said. "It seems my trust was well placed." He looked up at Agatha, and then back at Lord Gold. "Her army is scattered to the wind. She fights for survival, not her throne."

"Wrong, " Agatha boomed over the field. Faint cackling echoed under her voice, ringing in Lance's ears. "I fight for vengeance." She floated to the ground, gently borne on wisps of smoky black shadows. Her lone gengar glared at Betherian from above Agatha's shoulder with glowing red eyes. "You have taken everything from me."

"Then you will fall, " Lance replied. He stepped forward, the draconic embers in his chest roaring into an inferno. Betherian roared in response, challenging the ghost that dared stand before her. Lance spoke again, pure draconic power radiating off him in waves. "Your reign of terror is over."

Morty chanted in a forgotten tongue behind him, his mismagius mimicking every word in a demonic tone. A rotten yellow eye appeared, conjured by the medium and his ghost. The rotten eye opened, fixating on the Ghost Queen. Morty opened his eyes as the life drained from his face. "She is trapped, " he rasped. "The mean look will hold her here, though I can't say how long."

He raised his blade, staring down the Ghost Queen with the inferno of dragonfire smouldering in his chest. "This ends now, " he stated evenly. "I challenge you for the ri-"

Agatha shrieked and leapt forward, propelled by a jet of shadowy energy. A blade of stygian blackness formed in Agatha's hands, trailing a stream of black smoke behind her. Lance leapt from the Johtan line, determined to defend his countrymen. He shot through the air, propelled at superhuman speeds towards the medium. Their blades clashed together with a resounding crash, supernatural strength meeting with something not completely human.

Her gengar surged forward, a ball of shadows forming in its claws. It threw the ball of energy at the dragon where it splashed off armoured orange scales harmlessly. Betherian looked down at the ghost and snorted derisively. She lowered her head, blasting a bolt of lightning that carved a charred path towards the gengar. Agatha's ghost seemed to merge with the shadows, slinking away from the violent arcs of electricity.

Betherian roared again, incensed at her target's sudden disappearance. She reared her head back, azure flames spilling out of he maw. The dragonbreath washed over the darkness, bathing the battle in an eerie blue glow. The gengar's death screech tore through the courtyard, grating at the eardrums of everyone present as the flames ripped through its form. A horde of haunter and ghastly dove from the nightmare above, pinning the dragon to the ground and cutting off the blue flames.

Agatha slipped away again, melting back into the shadows where Lance could not follow. She appeared again, diving towards him on a current of black smoke. She scored a glancing blow on the inside of his left leg. Her momentum carried her past him, out of the reach of Lance's blade. She sank back into a shadow, disappearing from sight again.

"Stand and fight!" Lance commanded, swiping at Agatha's shadow as she faded into the darkness. His blade passed through nothing, striking the cobblestone streets as he carried through with his swing.

She leapt out of another shadow, feinting towards Lance's head. He bit on the feint and swung his blade up to intercept hers. She slipped under his guard, scoring a direct blow that bit through his armour and sliced a shallow cut on his stomach. He doubled over, clutching at the gash in his belly.

Agatha stepped out of the darkness in front of Lance, visibly gloating as he nursed his wound. "This is Johto's great champion?" she asked. "Afraid of the dark?" She tossed her head back, maniacal laughter ringing out over the silenced Johtan army.

Lance grunted, dropping to one knee. He could feel his hold on the dragonfires inside him slipping as he strained to control himself. The embers roared higher, and Lance let himself be lost in their inferno.

Betherian thrashed madly as her temper flared. A dull red glow emanated from the dragonite's orange scales, giving the dragon her own demonic appearance. Ghosts peeled away from her in waves, desperately fleeing from the enraged dragon's wrath.

"Betherian, outrage!" Lance ordered. He forced himself back to his feet, the same dull red glow burning off of him. Draconic power radiated off of him, giving him strength as his rage burned hotter.

His dragonite bellowed madly as she tore into the fleeing ghosts with reckless abandon. Every snap of her jaws and swipe of her claws showered her surroundings with another spray of dark purple blood. Ghosts fell to her like wheat before a scythe, drenching her claws in gooey ectoplasm.

Agatha shrieked, turning her back on Lance. She reached out to the fleeing ghosts, bringing them back under her thrall with practised ease. She pointed at Betherian with a blood-curdling shriek, all her anger and attention aimed at the dragon.

The fleeing ghosts turned on a dime, hurtling back towards the dragon with self-preservation forgotten. She cut through the swarm even as their shadow claws tore through her hide, her rage blocking out the pain as she continued her rampage.

Lance's blade sprouted from Agatha's chest with a spray of blood. Her body slumped back onto his blade as she desperately attempted to suck down a breath. Betherian looked up from the slaughter, bloodlust clouding her eyes.

Lance forced his blade deeper, burying it up to the hilt in Agatha's back. The ghosts mauling his dragon stopped their assault, turning and regarding the scene curiously. He cradled her body against his, his lips inches from her ear as the ghosts started to approach. "Never turn your back on an opponent. Not until he lays dead at your feet."

She gurgled a response, words lost in the bubble of blood that spurted from her mouth. Lance stepped back, tearing his blade free with a violent flourish. Agatha dropped to her knees, eyes fearfully locked on the ghosts converging on her. She raised an arm, a stream of shadows lazily snaking out of the palm of her hand.

A particularly brave haunter darted forward, knocking aside Agatha's fading resistance with ease. She raised her arm fearfully, a final vain attempt to defend herself. The ghost pounced, ripping and tearing at her flesh with its claws. The swarm of ghosts descended on their former master, ripping her to pieces as she shrieked in pain.

Lance averted his eyes, unable to watch as the ghosts dragged their master back to whatever demonic plane of existence they came from. He didn't dare look until the mad cackling of a thousand ghosts faded and the chill left his spine.

The sun poked through the clouds, still labouring above one of the peaks surrounding the plateau. Lance looked at the place Agatha had fallen, noticing only the inky black stain left behind.

"Your Grace, " Morty started, hope filling his voice with warmth. "It is done."

Lance looked to the sky, the images of Agatha's nightmares still burning in his mind. "No, " he replied. "This city still writhes in pain. Agatha killed many by summoning her army."

Lord Gold stepped forward, favouring his wounded leg and limping slightly. "Much of our army was outside the barrier when the ghosts attacked. I recommend that we rest here, at least until we know the extent of the carnage."

Lance nodded, a tired smile worn on his face. "Very well then, " he said. "We rest here. At least for now." He looked up at Betherian, allowing himself to savour the victory.

His dragon lowered her head, sniffing at the rent in the King's gilded armour. She growled softly, sniffing at the blood leaking from his belly cautiously. She growled pointedly, as if to chide Lance for his sloppiness.

"I know, " he said, exhaustion creeping into his voice. "Seems as if I've gone soft, " he said. He closed his eyes and toppled to the side, his legs buckling from blood loss. He felt hands grabbing at him, tearing his armour off in a hurry. Frantic shouts and angry voices faded into nothingness, and then he felt nothing at all.


	2. Dawn

**_Arc 1: Death of Innocence _**

**_Dawn_**

_A new day dawns on a changed Kanto. The champion wakes._

* * *

"By all accounts, Lance suffered a grievous blow." Fuji looked up across the oversized table, his cold gaze falling on Blue. The old man's stare ran a chill down his spine, and he fought the sudden urge to look away. "He hasn't woken since the battle, and his army is a fraction of what it once was. Lance poses no more threat than a landlocked magikarp."

Blue sighed heavily, glaring back at the bald man seated at the head of the table as the room seemed to echo in agreement. "No threat to Lavender, maybe. But he is not camped a week's march away from Lavender, is he?"

Fuji shook his head slowly, remaining silent. The crackling fire behind him cast an ever-changing shadow on the table in the centre of the room.

"The Johtans are still camped within our borders, and the lot of you would rather bicker over the scraps that the Queen left behind than fight the real enemy." He looked up at Fuji, eyes flickering between the pair of immaterial ghosts that hovered over the elderly medium's shoulders. "I have Johtan scouts probing Viridian's defences on a weekly basis. Thousands of men are still pushing into my territory, all while I lack the numbers to attack them directly. Now is not the time to bicker over a throne that our enemy now holds."

Fuji rose to his feet, leaning over the table. The shadows seemed to darken, growing in length and reaching out towards Blue as the ghosts forced themselves into reality. "You forget your place, Little Oak." The temperature seemed to drop as Fuji's haunter appeared in earnest. "You would all do well to remember your place."

Static electricity filled the stuffy wooden room, radiating off the man seated at the table's head. The shadows seemed to recede as the powerfully built man stared down the ghosts creeping into reality. "That's enough, Fuji." He stood up, glaring at the medium. "I will not stand by and watch you impose your will on a child."

Fuji turned his head to look at his ghosts, a bemused look on his face. "Do you mean to threaten me, Lord Surge?" He turned to face the man, his expression unreadable.

Lord Surge stiffened his posture, staring down his crooked nose at the medium. "I mean to remind you that I swore my service to Agatha." He looked down at Fuji's body, an amused grin on his face. "You are not Agatha."

Fuji raised his eyebrow at him. "And you think yourself stronger than me?" He shook his head with a soft grin spreading across his face. "What is dead canno-"

Surge slammed his first into the table, silencing the elder immediately. His voice hardened, growing colder and more harsh. "Spare me the empty threats, " he spat. "I knelt to Agatha because she was stronger than all of us. You, however, are barely even a pale imitation of her power." He turned his head, regarding the rest of the Lords and Ladies around the table with a cold and calculating stare. "I say enough with the rule of the dead, " he said calmly. "Let the living have their turn running this Empire."

"Agatha died with no clear heir, " Blue interjected, silencing Fuji with a withering glare. "Traditionally, the throne would pass to the next male relative in line, " he said. He motioned to Fuji with one hand, keeping the other one clenched in a tight fist on the table. "That would leave Fuji as the rightful heir to the throne. "

Surge bit back a laugh, eyes never leaving Fuji's frail form. "That is something that I cannot accept, " he said. "Vermillion will not bow to the dead any longer."

Fuji snorted in derision. "And who would you have take the throne in my place?" he asked with a knowing smile. "You?"

"Why wouldn't it be me?" Surge retorted with a snarl. "I've been Lord of Vermillion for twenty years, since Agatha put down the last Dragon King himself." He pointed a finger at Fuji accusingly. "You were barely even-"

"Why would it be you?" asked a quiet voice. All eyes turned, finding the quiet woman in the corner finally on her feet. She straightened her kimono, flattening out the creases that had formed on the fabric. "Celadon is larger, richer, and isn't ruled by a relic."

Surge scowled in her direction as a hushed silence descended on the impromptu council chambers. "What did you just say?" he asked curtly.

"I said that you're a relic, " she replied. "A remnant of a dying breed, holding onto power with an iron grip. Why would it be you who leads the rest of us?"

Surge crossed his arms, still scowling at her. "Who's going to stop me?" he asked, his mouth curled into a cold grin. "You? Erika, we both know how that ends."

"I say we put it to a vote, " Blue said, cutting Erika's retort off before it began. "Just like when Agatha was crowned."

Surge cocked his head to the side, his murderous glare locked on Blue. "Way I see it, everyone here's just gonna vote for themselves." He shrugged nonchalantly. "An eight-way tie is just gonna end up with a whole lotta blood spilt over this. Blood that would be better spent retaking Indigo."

"You're agreeing with me?" Blue asked incredulously. "Why the change of heart?"

Surge shrugged. "Basic military strategy, " he replied. "Lance and the Johtans are a far larger threat than any of you. I'd be risking more by ignoring them to take advantage of the chaos."

Erika nodded slowly. "The relic is correct, " she said. "Kanto needs unity during this time. We can ill afford to spend what few soldiers we have left on petty squabbles."

Blue breathed a sigh of relief, his shoulders visibly relaxing. He turned his head, whispering to the towering man at his side. "Thank the gods, " he said quietly. He straightened his spine and looked around the room. "Then it is settled. Brock and I will hold Viridian until the rest of you can gather more troops." He raised an eyebrow, scanning the gathered Lords and Ladies for any sign of dissent. "Unless there are any objections, this Kingsmeet is at an end."

Brock cleared his throat, his arms crossed. "I expect to see the lot of you in Viridian three months from now. The Johtans will make their move soon enough." He turned to the door and flung it open, flooding the room with sunlight. "I would hate for the rest of you to miss out of the action."

Lord Surge was the first to file out, his perpetual scowl seemingly burned onto his face. His aides followed him out, similar expressions worn on their faces.

The procession from Saffron City filed out after, as silent as they had been during the meeting. Blue frowned, watching them go. He locked eyes with the young woman at Lord Natsume's side and her eyes flashed purple for half a moment. She closed her eyes and looked away, following the rest of the Saffron contingent out.

Blue blinked in surprise, watching her go. He leaned towards Brock as the Fuchsian and Lavender representatives headed for the door. "Was that Lady Sabrina?" he asked.

Brock raised an eyebrow at him. "Aye," he replied. "Careful with psychics, old friend. They'll as soon cook your mind as they would share theirs with you."

He shook his head. "She was staring at me throughout the meeting. Felt like she was watching me."

Brock smiled and shook his head. "All the more reason to be careful, " he replied. "Psychics are dangerous at the best of times."

Blue nodded as he gathered the various reports he had brought to convince the rest of Kanto's nobility. In the end, they'd done nothing but give Fuji and Surge reason to bicker over minute details that barely mattered. Only Brock's calm patience had carried him through to the end of the meeting with his wits still intact. "At least we managed to convince them to help us. They seem to understand that the war isn't over."

Brock furrowed his brow as he followed Blue out the door. "But what Surge said does worry me." He turned and shut the doors to the impromptu council chambers before turning back to face Blue. "He may not want to spill Kanto's blood over Agatha's throne at the moment, but what of the others?"

Blue stopped in his tracks, turning to face Brock. "We have no guarantee that they'll abide by any agreement we made here."

Brock nodded solemnly. "Aye, and who's to say what they might do after we retake Indigo. Surge did not seem like the type to pledge his loyalty to anyone he thinks himself stronger than."

"It'd do well to keep an eye on them, " Blue said quietly. He turned towards the window overlooking Vermillion's harbour. Brock sidled up beside him, leaning on the window sill. "Do you have anyone who can stay here?"

Brock shook his head. "None that I can spare at time like this. All my best scouts are still stationed at Viridian."

Blue sighed. "Then it can't be helped." He turned away from the window and motioned for Brock to follow. "We'll just have to hope for the best."

* * *

The campfire crackled loudly as one of the burning logs split and popped. The men around the fire roared and laughed, their jeers and calls marring the otherwise peaceful night. Dozens more men danced and cheered, their mugs slopping mead around the clearing as they celebrated their hard-earned victory.

A silent shade crept closer to the party, unnoticed by the inebriated soldiers. It slipped into the shadows cast by the campfire, moving through the forest around the clearing with practised ease. A pair of malevolent purple eyes peered out of the shadows, watching the party with clear disdain.

The woman looked up at the gengar, warily eying the spiky shadow leering out at the celebration. "Be good, " she commanded. "Wait for the signal."

The gengar melted back into the shadows, glaring out at the unsuspecting enemy. She shivered as a chill went down her spine, her connection with the ghost letting her feel its pent up energy. Her bond with the ghost was strange and she never liked to dwell on it for long, lest she go mad with despair. Only fully trained mediums dared to contemplate that bond, and only after years of experience with their partner.

She unsheathed her blade, the rasp of the steel barely audible even to her over the party. A quick check over her shoulder told her that Saur was ready and waiting for the signal as well. The beast blended into the foliage surprisingly well, his leafy bulb bristling slightly in the crisp mountain breeze.

"C' mon Red. Where are you?" Her soft green eyes scanned the foliage on the opposite side of the clearing, searching for any sign of movement.

A butterfree fluttered through a gap in the trees, lazily meandering up above the treeline for a moment. She turned her head to the side, nodding at the ivysaur hidden among the trees.

Saur grunted quietly as the bulb on his back quivered. A geyser of spores erupted into the air, creating far more noise than she had hoped for.

She pulled the cloth up over her face, shielding her nose and mouth from the cloud of highly paralytic spores. A gentle wind pushed the cloud out towards the party and she felt the tingling sensation of a few stray spores landing on exposed skin.

The butterfree seemed to raise her antennae, and the woman felt the hairs on the back of her neck raise. She felt the current of psychic energy running through the air and shuddered slightly as the cloud of spores slowly arced down towards the party.

"Saur, " she said, glancing back at the ivysaur. "Bring the forest to life."

The creature roared in response, a deep-throated bellow that drowned out the party for a long, haunting moment. He extended a pair of vines from underneath the bulb on his back, whipping them through the air at the nearest soldier even as the inebriated soldiers scrambled for cover.

Saur's vines wrapped around the man's legs and hoisted him into the air. She heard an audible crack as her ivysaur snapped the man's legs as if they were twigs. He screamed in pain, a shrill high noise that betrayed his youth.

She leaned out from behind the tree, watching as half a dozen men retrieved their weapons. "Saur, watch your vines! Razor leaf!"

The ivysaur shook his leafy bulb violently, flinging a hail of razor-edged leaves towards the party. Scores of men dropped to the dirt, clutching at the plant matter embedded in their bodies.

"Nox, immobilize them!"

Her gengar cackled madly, his malevolent purple eyes glaring out of the treeline. Purple smog billowed from between the trees, blanketing the clearing in a thick acrid layer. A shapeless mass of spiky shadows swelled in size, looming over the celebration and flashing a mischievous grin.

Panicked shouts broke out as the men realised that they were under attack. The party ground to a screeching halt as the soldiers rallied to face their horrific new threat.

The formation collapsed as quickly as it had formed. Men fell to the ground, hacking and coughing as they clutched at their throats. She watched in morbid fascination as the shimmering cloud of spores descended on the clearing.

A flash of blinding light lit up the clearing, growing into a mass of hulking muscles. The four armed beast grunted as it took form, breathing in a face full of spores before it could even take a step. Its muscles twitched erratically as they fought against the spores' influence. It toppled forward, crashing heavily into the dirt where it lay motionless.

Nox laughed heartily as he shrunk down to his normal size. The gengar's chilling laugh rang out over the field, maniacally growing in volume as the last few men collapsed. He danced out over the field, emerging from the shadows of the trees like a vengeful wraith.

The woman stepped out from the cover of the treeline, striding towards the lone man still fighting against the spores. The butterfree appeared over the treeline again, madly flapping its wings. A gust of wind kicked up, clearing the spores away just as she walked out into the field.

The man struggled heavily, his chest heaving with laboured breathing. He had dropped his warhammer and had fallen to his knees. His massive, bare chest heaved with every painful breath. He looked up at the woman, realization and hatred dawning in his eyes. "You…" he choked out.

"Yes, me, " she replied. "Should have killed me when you had the chance." She stopped, looking down at the mountain of muscles who had been brought down without even lifting her blade. "Consider this payback for butchering the garrison at Tohjo Falls."

He choked hard, hacking and coughing madly. A spray of blood erupted from his mouth, painting the ground with a bright red splatter. He glared up at her in defiance and spat a glob of blood at her. "It's war, " he spat. He opened his mouth, choking on his words as the paralytic spores finally took effect.

She nodded and sheathed her blade. "Aye, " she agreed, "it is war." She looked around at the field of fallen men, many still twitching as the spores shut down their bodies. "My men surrendered. Yet you still butchered them." She turned away as the mountain of a man collapsed. "So I didn't give yours the choice. You made that choice for them."

He collapsed into the dirt, shaking and twitching as the spores did their work. She closed her eyes, listening to the slow, unmistakable sound of footsteps picking their way through the field of bodies. She turned and looked at the man approaching from the treeline, content to watch him approach in solemn silence.

"Leaf, " he started, his voice calm and soft. His charmeleon followed closely behind him, growling at the twitching corpses as it prowled past. A pikachu leapt off his shoulder, darting into the field. He looked at the fallen mountain and grimaced. "All the corpses in his wake and the great Bruno dies without even having lifted his weapon." He shifted his gaze to her, his expression softening. "You ok?" he asked.

She shrugged and turned away from him. "I've watched too many friends die, Red. This war hasn't even lasted a year and the trainer corps has maybe half the strength it started with." She hung her head, coming to a halt. "Is it even worth it?" she asked, turning to look at Red. Tears were starting to form in the corners of her eyes. She blinked them away, refusing to let her emotions boil over. "I don't care who sits on the damned throne. I just want to go home and stop watching people die for a war that they have no stake in."

Red lifted his helmet off his head, letting his messy mop of black hair fall past his shoulders. "We don't get that choice, Leaf. We are bound to Viridian, for better or worse. That is our lot in life."

"Is it wrong to want something else?" she asked quietly.

He shook his head. "No. It's not." He held out his hand to her, a sad smile worn on his round face. "Come on, let's get back to camp. We should move before we get added to the feast ."

She nodded, taking his hand with her own. She closed her eyes and slowed her breathing to a crawl. She opened her eyes a half second later, looking at Red with watery green eyes. "Let's leave, " she said suddenly. "Right now. Nobody would ever know."

He shook his head. "We can't do that. We'd be abandoning Pallet. It's our home, Leaf."

"Yours, maybe." She hung her head, fists clenched tightly. "But not mine."

Red shook his head. "I'll hear no more of this, " he said. He broke into a small grin. "Can you imagine the look on Mum's face if you'd said that to her?"

Leaf smiled despite herself. "Your mother couldn't be happier to remind me that I'm always welcome in your home."

"Exactly, " he replied. "So do me a favour and lighten up. You're a lot more fun to be around when you aren't wallowing in misery."

Leaf remained silent, looking around at the devastation with a solemn look on her face. Sensing that he wouldn't get any further by pressing her, Red turned around to find his pokemon.

Pikachu jumped up onto his shoulder, a leather sack held between his teeth. Red smiled, taking the sack and ruffling the fur on the little mouse's head.

"Whatcha got here, bud?" he asked softly. He dumped the pouch out into his hand, gasping at the contents. Twelve balls tumbled out, falling out over his outstretched hand and tumbling to the dirt.

"Are those real?" Leaf asked. "They'd be worth a fortune."

Red lifted one of the pokeballs, studying it closely. "I think so, " he said. "Definitely feels real." He stuffed the balls back into the pouch and tied it to his belt. "C'mon, " he said, looking up at the sky. "Looks like this feast has been spotted."

A trio of winged shadows passed over them, the carrion birds that cast them lazily descending on the clearing. Even from the ground, Leaf could make out their razor-sharp beaks and talons just waiting to dig into their next meal.

Red turned to recall his charmeleon and trudged back towards the edge of the clearing. He whistled a sharp short tone once, his eyes trained on the fearow above. Pikachu leapt onto his shoulder, happily chittering away.

Leaf raised her ball, recalling Saur. Nox bounded across the field with a chilling laugh and settled into place above her shoulder. She didn't look back as the fearow descended on their feast.

* * *

The sun peeked out from above the trees, bathing the camp in the morning glow. A chorus of chirping pidgey serenaded the morning, shattering the peaceful quiet of morning.

Red stirred from his seat at the fireside. "Leaf, " he started. "Sun's up. We have to move." Pikachu yawned on his lap, stretching and nuzzling into Red's hand.

She groaned heavily and rolled away from him, pulling her bedroll over her head. "No, " she protested groggily.

He stood up, stretching his legs for the first time in hours. He yawned loudly and smiled as Pikachu burrowed his way into Leaf's bedroll.

"We have to get back to Viridian, " he said. "With Tohjo falls gone, the Johtans could march their entire army into the foothills and we wouldn't even know."

Leaf threw the bedroll off her head, knocking Pikachu off of her. The little mouse had nuzzled up beside her, his static electricity forcing her auburn hair to stand on end. "Red, don't talk to me about military problems before I'm out of bed." She groggily rubbed her eyes and looked over at him. "Unless we're under attack, it can wait."

He smirked at her, happily letting Pikachu climb up onto his shoulder. "Sorry, " he said. "But we've got a lot of ground to cover. Lord Oak was due back from Vermillion in less than a week." He turned back towards the fire, kicking dirt onto the few embers that were still smouldering. "I'd prefer that we reach the city before he does."

She nodded, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She attempted to flatten her hair, failing miserably. "Alright," she said flatly. She extricated herself from her bedroll and yawned loudly.

Nox burst from the dirt, laughing maniacally in Leaf's face. She frowned and planted her hands on her hips, unfazed by the ghost's attempted prank. "Cut it out, Nox. I'm not in the mood."

The ghost stuck out its tongue at her and dove into her shadow. It disappeared, the only clue to its presence the pair of malevolent purple eyes peering out from behind Leaf.

She pulled one of the balls off her belt, tapping the button and releasing the great beast inside.

The pidgeot cooed at the sight of her trainer, nuzzling her beak into Leaf's palm. "Seraph," she said happily. She scratched the bird's back, eliciting a happy coo from her pokemon. "We must return to Viridian. Can you carry both of us?"

The pidgeot's eyes narrowed as she looked between the two trainers. Slowly, she nodded and spread her wings. The seven-foot-tall bird slowly lowered herself to allow the trainers room to climb onto her back. Leaf patted Seraph nervously, glancing back at Red as he pulled himself closer to her. "Hold on tight, " she said, a soft grin tugging at her lips. "I always forget that you don't like flying."

"Just get us home, " he replied. "I can mope about flying later." His Pikachu squeaked from inside his travel cloak and he tucked the warm fabric around the pokemon.

She nodded and wrapped her arms around Seraph. "Alright girl, take us home."

The pidgeot screeched loudly as she launched herself into the air. She flapped madly, fighting to gain altitude. For a moment, Red feared that the bird wouldn't be able to clear the treeline. With a massive screech, Seraph urged herself higher. She soared into the sky, leaving the makeshift camp far behind.

* * *

The warm crackle of a fire filled the room, bathing the small chamber in a warm glow. The sweet scent of pecha berries filled Lance's nose as he groggily opened his eyes. The fire had burnt itself down to a small flame, illuminating the pair of women slumped in their chairs.

"Mira, " he said, his voice hoarse. The words seemed to scrape along his throat as he croaked at the figures in the chairs. "Water."

One of the figures stirred, yawning and stretching her legs. She pulled her hair back and into a right bun atop her head. "Clair, let's-"

"Mira, " Lance repeated, struggling to push himself up into a sitting position. He clutched at his stomach, gingerly feeling the bandages wrapped around his midsection. His mind wandered to Betherian and the memories of the battle came back to him.

His wife threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around the top half of his torso in a crushing hug. "You're awake!" she said in a breathless whisper. "Thank the gods. I thought I lost you."

He smiled despite the pain, his piercing eyes trained on Mira's. "It'll take more than that to get rid of me."

A sharp cough interrupted their embrace. "Touching, " Clair said. Her hard expression softened and a smile spread across her face. "Good to have you back, cousin."

Lance nodded at her. "What have I missed?" he asked. He looked down at the bandages wrapped around him and sighed. "How long has it been?"

"Thirty-four days, " Clair replied. "Morty feared you might never wake. The Queen's blade was not of this reality. It would have killed you if not for Morty's work to purify the wounds."

He winced as he swung his legs off the bed. "Mira, " he said quietly. "Help me stand."

The slender woman braced his weight against her shoulder, lifting him as he tested his strength. They took a wobbly step forward, and Lance grunted with the effort.

"And what of the battle?" he asked. "Agatha called her ghosts…"

Clair's grim look gave him all the information he needed. "It's bad. We lost at least half our men when that damned horde dropped from the sky." She sighed and turned away, looking into the dying flames intently. "That's not even mentioning the death toll among the smallfolk."

"How bad?" Lance asked.

"Thousands upon thousands, " she replied. "We're still pulling bodies out of every nook and cranny of this city. It appears as if Agatha's ghost army was extremely thorough." She wrung her hands together, nervously glancing down at the fire.

"The city is a dying husk, " Lance said mournfully. "Its people will need a home."

Clair raised an eyebrow. "Your Grace, these people were still subjects of the Ghost Queen. Is it wise to-"

"We were subjects of the Ghost Queen, " Lance replied. "I would be no better than our enemy if I simply ground the smallfolk underfoot."

"As you wish, Your Grace, " Clair replied. "I'll make arrangements for any who are willing to swear themselves to you." She paused for a moment, lost in thought. "Any who are willing could be escorted back down the mountains."

"How so?" Lance asked. "Tohjo Falls blocks the way, and the garrison-"

"Fell last week, " Clair answered. "Bruno and his men took it with less than half-a-hundred casualties."

Lance's stony expression softened. "Impressive. Perhaps the war can be at an end."

"Your Grace?" Clair asked, taken aback. "I was under the impression that we were meant to bring Kanto under our banner. That task is not complete."

He shook his head slowly. "What desire do I have to rule Kanto, " he said. "Let them find their own King." He winced, clutching at his stomach.

Mira nearly buckled as Lance's knees gave out. He dropped to one knee, his jaws clenched. A groan of pain escaped his lips. "Water, " he said.

Clair dashed from the room without a second thought, shouting down the stone hallways for any servant who would listen. Her voice disappeared from earshot in moments, leaving only echoes behind.

Mira hauled her husband back to his feet. She carried him to the chair she had been sitting in and slowly lowered him into it. She breathed a sigh of relief as he slumped back and sank into the chair.

"Where is Betherian?" he asked. He looked up at her, his eyes sunken into his skull. He looked haggard and thin, the skin seeming to hang loose off of his bones. It was as if the life had been sucked out of his body. His piercing yellow eyes bored into her as he repeated his question. "Where is my dragon?"

Mira swallowed the lump in her throat. Her husband was in no shape to face his raging dragon. "She is in mourning. She believes you to be lost."

Lance nodded slowly. "Her wing?" he asked. "It was broken in the fall."

Mira placed a hand on her husband's shoulder, attempting to be a reassuring presence. "Clair set it to heal, " she started. "But Betherian has refused to allow anyone near her. She tore apart one of the men that Clair had brought with her, and there are whispers that she's become little more than a mindless beast."

"Whispers have a source, " he stated flatly. "Who dares to say such things?"

"Your men, " she replied. "The Elder Council have sent an envoy. He is likely the source."

Lance shook his head, exhaustion plain on his face. "The stubborn old fools have been a thorn in my side since I defied them to train Betherian. They would not be above spreading rumours to further their goals."

She nodded slowly and sat in the chair beside Lance. "Then we are still surrounded by enemies, " she said.

Lance smiled sadly. "Just like home, " he said. "Stay close to me, my love. I have a feeling that the worst is yet to come."

"They expect this war to continue, don't they?"

Lance frowned, remaining silent. His furrowed brow and clenched jaw were all the answers that Mira needed. Her husband was dour and serious, but never overly paranoid. If he was cautious, then he had reason to be.

Mira leaned forward in her chair, taking Lance's hand with his own. "Don't let anyone change the way you are, " she said. "Johto chose you as her champion. Stand by what made you the man they chose to lead them."

He met her gaze, looking up at her with exhausted eyes. With a groan of effort, he forced himself to his feet. He stood tall and proud, the pain and exhaustion gone from his posture. Mira could feel waves of draconic power radiating off of him as he turned towards the door. "Where is Betherian?" he asked.

Mira smiled as she stood up. "Let me take you to her."

* * *

Lance looked up the steps, gazing into the yawning doors to Indigo's great hall. The massive iron-wrought doors had been smashed off their hinges and left discarded on the steps. Scorch marks marred the marble steps, and great rents had been clawed into the pristine stone.

Mira stopped, leaving her husband to climb the steps alone. "I love you, " she said quietly. "Please come back."

He turned and smiled softly. The usual hardness in his face melted away as he looked down at her. "I always come back, my love." He turned and took another step, reaching out to the flickering embers of dragonfire that burned in depths the throne room.

A deafening roar met his ears, nearly knocking him back down the steps with the force. He continued up the stairs undeterred, only pausing to glance back over his shoulder. He made out the shape of half a dozen people approaching Mira and turned back to face his dragon.

He stepped into the shadows of the throne room, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the dark. The throne room had been torn to shreds. Burnt tapestries hung in tatters off the wall, and puddles of molten slag lay scattered around the room. His dragon was curled around the half-melted throne, eying him warily.

"Beth, " he said softly. His footsteps were soft and quiet, muted by the layer of ash that had settled on the floor. " It's me."

The dragonite raised her head, looking down at him and gauging whether he was a threat. For half a moment, the dragon recognized him. Then rage took control of her features. She raised her head and tossed it back into a terrible roar that shook the foundations of the citadel.

Lance took another step, unafraid of his most loyal and powerful friend. He felt the embers of flame flicker in his chest, responding unconsciously to the dragon before him. "Betherian, " he started, his voice dripping with draconic power. "Come back."

He reached out, feeling the strength of her essence touch his own. Fear and nausea overwhelmed him as his dragon's emotions mixed with his own. His eyes shot open and he dropped to his knees.

The dragon shifted from her place by the throne, drawn towards him. Her scales sparkled brilliantly in the light of the dragonfires burning in the throne room.

Realisation dawned on Lance as she sniffed at him cautiously. He reached up, gently touching her snout as she leaned down towards him. "You are not dreaming my friend, " he said. He smiled and nodded. "This is real."

She pulled back, sniffing at his hand cautiously. She wrinkled her nose and a warning growl escaped her maw.

Lance pulled his hand back as Betherian snapped her jaws closed where his hand had been. He grabbed the side of her head fearlessly, the dragonfires roaring inside of him. "No!" he shouted, voice rippling with power. "This is real!"

She blinked once, the rage clearing from her eyes. Recognition dawned on her features and she lowered herself towards him.

Lance patted her snout, a smile spreading across his face. "Now let's go be the champion."

* * *

_As always, any feedback is welcomed! _


	3. Days to Come

**_Arc 1: Death of Innocence_**

**_Days to Come_**

_A champion is crowned. His path is paved with death._

* * *

He descended from the steps of the citadel like the champion he was. His dragon lumbered through the smashed-apart doors, growling at the men that had gathered to greet their King.

Lance came to a halt several steps above the crowd, glowering at them menacingly. A faint breeze blew in from the mountains, fluttering his cape slightly. "Friends, allies, countrymen," he paused after each word, his piercing gaze seeming to find each individual. "We have won a great victory here. Songs will be sung for years about this battle." He took a step down, a pained grimace breaking his grim bearing for a fleeting moment. "Yet I have heard that this victory is not enough for some." He folded his arms across his chest as Betherian roared and took flight. "Some of you would have me forge a new kingdom of blood and fire."

A squat, bald man piped up as Lance took another menacing step towards them. "It is your right to do so, " he said calmly. "Johto and Kanto have forever been locked together in an eternal struggle for dominance." He pointed up at the ruined citadel in awe, mouth gaping open as Betherian landed lithely on one of the spires. "We now have that opportunity-"

"Silence, Lord envoy, " Lance spat. He looked down at the portly noble, a frown of disapproval clear on his face. "The Elders' voice holds no power here."

The noble stepped forwards, defiant towards the dragon tamer that stood before him. "You would flout centuries of tradition to continue a petty feud?" he asked. "The Elders shall hear-"

Lance took another step towards him, his eyes blazing with internal fire. "The Elders are not here, " he said. "They shall hear only what I decide to tell them." He unfolded his arms and looked out among the gathered nobles. "And we will not mindlessly throw away lives to sate the bloodlust of a few senile old men."

The noble bowed deeply, prostrating before the King. "As you wish, Your Grace." He straightened out and stood as tall and proud as his stature would allow. "What is your command?"

Lance grimaced slightly, hand reflexively clutching at his injured stomach. "My command will have to wait, " he said softly. He looked through the crowd, searching for Mira's face. "I must rest."

Mira appeared from the crowd, shoving her way through the gathered nobles with practised ease. "My husband is tired, " she said as she pushed her way forward. "We will decide on a course of action in the morning. Until then, we will continue with our rescue efforts as before."

The crowd murmured assent, slowly dispersing as Mira helped Lance climb down the last few steps. Every step brought a groan and wince of pain. Lance glanced up, eyes boring into the few men who dared to stare as he struggled. "They are watching, " he said quietly, whispering in Mira's ear.

"Let them, " she replied. "Let them see a Queen supporting their King."

* * *

Mira lowered her shoulder, allowing Lance to slip off of her and onto the bed. "You're heavy, "she complained.

He looked up at her, eyes heavy. "Not too heavy, I hope?"

She shook her head with a smile. "Not for Betherian, maybe. However, I am not a dragon."

"You are as fierce and protective as one, " he replied. His eyes lazily threatened to shut as he leaned back on the bed. "I would have no other to be my wife."

She unwrapped the bandage around his stomach, peeling the bloodied fabric off his torso. Blackened blood oozed slowly from the gash on his stomach. Mira wrinkled her nose at the rancid stench, eyes nervously glancing up at Lance.

"Is it bad?" he asked cautiously. He caught her nervous gaze and grimaced. "Guess there's my answer, " he said. "How long will it take to heal?" he asked.

Mira shrugged. "I'm not sure. Morty wasn't even certain that you would ever wake." She looked back towards the door. "I can fetch him if you'd like?"

He shook his head. "No, stay with me. I'd rather not be alone."

She sat beside him, unravelling another length of bandage. "Then stay still, " she ordered as she set to work wrapping the clean bandages around him.

"What am I to do?" he asked suddenly. "I was crowned King of Johto. I am expected to be a conqueror. To lay the sword to Kanto and usher in a new Age." He hung his head, deep in thought. "But I do not wish for more bloodshed." He looked up at her, eyes bleary and bloodshot. "When I close my eyes I see the defenders of Indigo's walls looking up at me in fear as Betherian laid waste to the city. I see the terror on a man's face as I drive my blade through his chest." He was silent for a moment as Mira continued wrapping him. "I see the children running for their lives as the dragon inside me wakes."

Mira finished wrapping him in silence, sweat beading on her forehead. She looked up at him and smiled. "You are a dragon, Lance. They will always fear you. People fear what they do not understand. And they will never understand you."

"Then is it better to do as the Elders see fit? Lay waste to Kanto and grind them into submission?"

Mira's expression hardened. "I would not deign to advise you on strategy, Your Grace. While I have a warrior's instincts, I am not much for strategy."

He frowned. "Mira, I do not know what to do. Kanto will fight us to the end, and-"

"So use their fear against them, " she interrupted. "They bowed to Agatha because of fear, we all did. Make them fear the dragon and they'll trip over themselves to swear fealty to you."

"And how am I to do that?" he asked. "I am in no condition for battle, and…" he trailed off, a far off look in his eyes. "I know what I must do, " he said solemnly. He forced himself to his feet, ignoring Mira's offer of support. The embers of dragonfire inside him stirred, and strength returned to his limbs.

"Your Grace?" she asked.

"With Tohjo Falls taken, the Kantoans will rally at Viridian. Viridian must fall before the Kantoans can gather their strength, else this war will be a long and bloody slog."

Realisation dawned on Mira's face. "Bring them to heel with a show of force?" she pondered. "It could work. But it could also backfire spectacularly." She placed a hand on his ribs, gingerly touching the bandages wrapped around his torso. "And you will pay the price if it does…"

Lance took her hand with his own. "Then I gladly pay it for my people, " he said. "Now take me to the armoury. I can rest when Viridian is a smoking ruin."

* * *

The sun's rays shone through the cracks of the citadel wall, painting a vibrant web of light on the rocky plateau. The siege camp surrounding the city had begun to stir in the early morning light, preparations for the long march down the mountains beginning already.

Betherian lay sprawled on the broken ramparts, bathing in the morning sunlight. Her scales reflected brilliant orange light down on the camp painting it in soft orange glow. She yawned and lazily looked up at the flock of spearow winging their way past. The lead fearow screeched and urged its flock onwards, away from the hungry dragon.

Lance stood at the mouth of the command tent, his blade sheathed across his back. His cape flapped softly in the breeze as he slung a pack over his shoulder.

"Your Grace, I must protest this course of action, " Clair said. "It is far too dangerous for you to go alone, " she continued.

"I will not be alone, " he replied. "I will have Betherian with me."

Clair furrowed her brow, clearly annoyed by her cousin's stubborn insistence. "At least take the Dragon Knights. They will-"

"Only slow me down, " he finished. He turned his head towards Clair with an impatient glare. "As are you right now, " he finished. "Time is of the essence, dear cousin. Is there anyone who can keep pace with Betherian? I would gladly take them, but unfortunately for us there are very few pokemon who can match a dragonite in flight."

Clair turned her head, glancing at Mira. "Can you not make him see the folly in this?"

Mira sighed. "Has he ever listened to us when his mind has been decided?" She looked back at her husband and frowned. "He is as stubborn as the dragons he commands."

Clair massaged her temples furiously. "If you are so insistent on this planned suicide, then I will accompany you."

Lance couldn't help but snort with laughter. "And how do you plan on doing that?" he asked. "What dragon do you command?" he asked. "None that can fly."

Clair's eyes flashed with anger. "Stay your tongue, cousin. I am of the blood, same as you."

"My question remains, " Lance stated. "How do you plan on getting to Viridian with me?"

"Is Betherian too weak to carry two?" she asked. "She would be a poor excuse for a dragon if she could not-"

Lance sighed heavily. "Enough, " he said. "You may accompany me." He looked up at Betherian and grimaced. "Now, we ride for war." He brought his hand up to his mouth and whistled three short blasts.

Betherian's head perked up from her makeshift bed atop the castle's ramparts. She yawned and spread her wings, stretching from her night of lazy rest.

* * *

Red stumbled off the back of Seraph, his legs and torso aching from the flight. He sat down unceremoniously on the cobblestone courtyard, savouring the solid ground after hours in the air.

Leaf slipped off Seraph's back, giving her pidgeot a happy pat on her neck. "Thank you, Seraph. Go get some rest." She turned towards Red as her bird flapped off towards the castle's rookery. " Let's get up to the castle. The Elder will be waiting for us."

"Or he's already on his way to speak with you, " said a warm voice. An elderly man hobbled towards them, bent over a gnarled old cane for support. A half dozen armoured spearmen flanked him, the afternoon sun shining off their polished armour.

Red scrambled to his feet, standing at the ready for the Lord Elder of Viridian. "Elder Oak, " he said respectfully. "We bring news from Tohjo Falls."

The Elder frowned. "I take it from your appearance that it is not good news?" he asked.

Leaf answered for them both, looking calm and composed compared to Red's scruffy and dishevelled appearance. "The garrison has fallen. They were slaughtered to the last man."

"However, we did manage to eliminate the force that took the garrison, " Red continued. "Bruno and his men will no longer trouble us."

The Elder furrowed his brow. "While I commend the both of you for your efforts, Tohjo Falls was our best hope at keeping the Johtans on their side of the Argent mountains. Without that fortress-"

"They'll be able to march on Viridian unimpeded, " finished Red. He looked around, glancing at a group of smallfolk that hurried down an alleyway and out of sight. "We don't have the strength to hold Viridian against any substantial force. Most of our forces were lost when the Johtans took Indigo."

The old man nodded to himself, mumbling under his breath. He looked up at the pair and drew in a breath. "Rally the trainers, " he started. "Gather the smallfolk in the main square. We must evacuate this city. We cannot hope to hold it against the might of Johto, not even with Brock's forces bolstering our own."

Red nodded solemnly. "So we are to abandon our homes?" he asked. "Flee to Pewter and pray that the Johtans are satisfied with just Viridian?" He shook his head. "What guarantee do we have that they would stop there?"

"We don't have one, " Leaf interjected. "But we don't have any hope of survival if we hole up here." She turned to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Red, it's our best chance." She looked around at the abandoned square and sighed. "Viridian is just a place. It can be rebuilt. The people are what's important."

He nodded slowly in response. "I understand, " he murmured. He turned to face the Lord Elder, his calm expression masking the turmoil underneath. "I will take a detachment of trainers and gather as many of the southern farmers as I can. If Viridian falls, then they will be trapped between the Johtans and the sea."

The Elder nodded. "See to it then, " he replied. He spun deftly, despite his frail appearance. "Make haste, my friends. I fear we will not have much time." He marched off towards the keep, his guards close behind.

Leaf turned to Red, her brow furrowed in frustration. "Be careful, " she started. "I don't want to end up leaving Viridian without you."

He smiled weakly. "You won't. I'll be back before nightfall tomorrow."

"You better be, " she replied. "Or I'm coming after you."

He offered a reassuring smile and rolled his eyes dismissively. "I'm just gathering up the smallfolk, " he said. "What's the worst that could happen?"

* * *

Blue stared at the ceiling, brow furrowed and mind racing. He closed his eyes again, trying to let the ship rock him to sleep. Still, sleep eluded him. He sat up suddenly, sighing. He swung his legs off the bed and reached for the balls laying on the table at his bedside.

The little eevee appeared on the floor with a flash, cooing sleepily and nuzzling into his waiting hand. He smiled and scooped the little pokemon up in his arms.

"Can't sleep?" asked Brock. He stepped through the door to Blue's room, a half-empty bottle of dark liquid tucked under his arm. He lifted the bottle towards the ceiling and shook it at Blue. "Got something to help that if you're interested."

Blue shook his head as he sleepily got to his feet. "Not for me, " he yawned. "My mind is muddled enough without drowning my sorrows in a bottle." He held out an arm and allowed his little eevee to clamber up onto his shoulder. "I will get some air with you, if you'll have me?"

Brock cracked a grin and nodded ecstatically. "I'd be honoured if you'd grace me with your lordly presence."

Blue rolled his eyes and shook his head with a grin. "Always the joker, " he remarked.

Brock uncorked the bottle with a flourish. "I've been told that it's a coping mechanism, " he replied. He raised the bottle and shook it. "Just like this is." He tipped back the bottle and downed several mouthfuls of the dark brown liquid. He lowered the bottle and glanced at Blue with a sour look on his face.

"No good?" Blue asked as Brock spun to walk out onto the deck.

Brock shrugged noncommittally and turned to face him as he walked. "I don't usually drink Vermillion Dark Rum, " he said. "I prefer a proper Pewter brewed ale."

Blue looked up at the moon, enjoying the salty spray of seawater against his face. He closed his eyes, savouring the fresh ocean air as the ship gently rocked on the waves. His eevee broke the peaceful moment as she nuzzled affectionately into his neck. He smiled and scratched under her chin.

"Still haven't picked a name for her?" Brock asked.

"No, " Blue replied. A melancholic smile crossed his face and he scratched behind her ears. "It's something that dad told me when she hatched…" His voice trailed off as the lump formed in his throat. "He said that the rest of my life is decided for me. I should have one thing in my life that wasn't set. One thing that I could change on a whim." A lone tear ran down his face, dripping off his cheek before he wiped away the trail it left behind. "That's why she hasn't evolved yet, " he said quietly. "If I could choose, she'd already be a jolteon or a flareon…" He trailed off again, absentmindedly lavishing attention on the little pokemon.

Brock sat down abruptly beside him, leaning against the wall of the ship. "I get it, " he said. "Everything else in your life is already controlled and chosen for you. You just want to be not in control. To not have to choose." He tipped back the bottle and downed another gulp of the rum. "And it'd be a poor choice to name her Pyro and then have her evolve into an umbreon or something."

Blue smirked and chuckled softly. "So you see why I haven't named her now?"

"I do, " Brock said. He held out the bottle, offering it to Blue. "Take it, " he demanded. "Its no fun alone and you sound like you need a drink."

Blue silently took the bottle from him, tipping it back and downing a mouthful of the rum. It burned its way down his throat, leaving a rancid aftertaste behind. "They willingly drink this stuff?" he asked. He passed the bottle back to Brock and coughed.

"We're drinking it too, " Brock said with a laugh. "So it can't be all that bad."

Blue shook his head, a smile spreading across his face. He looked up at the moon, watching dark and fluffy clouds drift across the starlit sky. His smile faded slowly as his mind drifted towards darker thoughts.

Brock held the bottle out for him again, noticing the dour look that had replaced Blue's smile. "What're you thinking about that's got you into such a foul mood?" he asked.

Blue swiped the bottle out of Brock's hand. "Dad, " he said quietly. He looked up at Brock and cleared his throat. "I miss him."

Brock's seemingly permanent smile faded. "I can't close my eyes without seeing him storming away from me." He hung his head, looking down at his hands. "We didn't part well, " he said.

Blue handed the bottle back and sat down next to Brock. "To be fair, " he started. "You never were the best with him either."

Brock shrugged and tipped the bottle back, draining the rest of the bottle in two long gulps. "Should that matter?" he asked. "He was my dad and now he's gone."

Blue swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. "They're both gone, Brock. It's up to us to carry on in their names." He lifted the empty bottle out of Brock's hands and dropped it to the ship's deck.

"Its funny, " Brock started. "In a way, he prepared me for this my whole life. He was always off hunting down some outlaws, or fighting in one of his ridiculous tournaments." He turned his head to face Blue and frowned. "He would leave me in charge of Pewter and the rest of his kids and disappear without so much as a backwards glance." He sighed and shook his head. "Half the time he'd bring back yet another bastard for me to take care of."

Blue smirked. "Remember when he went off to Pummello and started calling himself Island King?"

Brock couldn't help but smile at the memory. "Your dad dragged him back to Pewter with that damned driftwood crown still on his head." He looked up, the ghost of a happy memory still on his face. "Kept calling him King Flynt of the sinking steelix."

Blue chuckled softly. "They definitely were a pair, " he said. "There wasn't any trouble that they got into without one of them bailing the other out."

Brock stared off at the moon, watching the clouds drift past and obscure it from sight. "Is that gonna be us?" he asked in a sombre tone. "Bailing each other out every few months?"

"There's nobody else I'd trust to bail me out the next time I wander into a beedrill nest, " Blue said.

"You do that often?" Brock asked.

Blue smirked. "Only when you're around to save my ass, " he said. "Now go get some sleep, " he ordered. "We'll reach Viridian in the morning. I'm sure you'd rather not appear before your men as a drunken sot."

Brock smiled and shook his head. "Aye, that may not be the best for morale." He clambered to his feet, his footing unsteady on the rocking ship. "Blue, which way is it?" he asked.

Blue smiled and got to his feet behind him. "Come on, M'Lord. Let's get you to bed. We've got a big day tomorrow."

* * *

The sun peeked out above the horizon, nearly blinding the dragon tamers with the sudden brilliance. Betherian barely flinched, her eyes far less sensitive than her human riders'. Tohjo Valley slowly came into the light below them as the sun slowly rose off the horizon.

"You're bleeding again, " Clair said. "Hold still."

He looked down at his torso, vaguely aware of the dull ache that refused to abate. He closed his eyes, forcing the embers of draconic fire inside him higher to dull the pain. "Do it now, " he said.

She peeled the bandage off his torso, grimacing at the sticky black bandage. "You aren't invincible, " she said. "Even you have limits."

"I can't afford to have limits, " he replied. "There is too much on the line."

She dropped the soiled bandage, letting the blackened fabric fly away in the wind rushing past. "Lance, do you truly think yourself invincible?"

He pondered the question for a moment. "I suppose not, " he replied. "But since I have never reached the limit of my powers, I would regard myself as near-invincible."

"I'm being serious, Cousin, " she said. "I don't want to tell Mira that you pushed yourself too far and got yourself killed."

He shook his head with a smile. "That would be a difficult conversation indeed."

She whacked him in the shoulder and shot him a scolding look. "I'm being serious here, " she said. "You are not a God. You have limits, no matter how powerful you might think yourself to be." She pulled the new bandage tight against him and tied it against his back. "So do me a favour and tell me if you need help."

"I don't need-"

"Shut it, " she spat. "I'm not one of the Elders. I'm not some coddled lady to be gawked at." Her expression softened. "We grew up together. If anybody knows you, it's me. So just shut up and let me in. "

He sighed. "I will make an effort, " he said softly. "But no promises."

She folded her arms across her body. "Stubborn fool, " she said.

Lance peered down off the side of Betherian, one hand still firmly grasping the saddle. The cloud of circling carrion birds immediately drew his gaze. He pointed, glancing over his shoulder at Clair. "Another slaughter, " he remarked.

"More of Bruno's handiwork?" she asked. "That's the second site of a slaughter since the garrison at Tohjo Falls."

"Only one way to know, " he replied. He dug his heel into Betherian's armoured side and leaned up towards her head. "Take us down, " he ordered.

She roared and tucked her wings back against her sides. The orange dragon dropped like a rock, plunging towards the ground at near-terminal velocity. She flared her wings just above the treetops, pulling out of her dive with a deafening roar to announce her presence.

Rattata and spearow scattered in all directions, disappearing into the trees moments after Betherian's arrival. The lone raticate spared a glance back at them before bounding into the underbrush.

An especially brave fearow squawked angrily and hopped towards the dragon. It screeched and stretched its wings out in a vain attempt to intimidate the newcomers.

Lance slipped off Betherian's back with Clair at his side, eying the fearow. He looked up at his dragon and nodded curtly.

Betherian lowered her head and growled. Electricity sparked between her horns and tore through the air with a flash of lightning. The smell of ozone and burnt feathers filled the air as the bird jerked and shook violently. It crashed lifelessly to the ground as Betherian cut off the flow of the lightning.

"Feast, " he ordered.

He turned away as Betherian lumbered over to the bird. She opened her maw, bathing the carcass in azure flames. The stench of burning flesh and feathers filled the clearing as Betherian cooked her meal. Without a backward glance, the massive dragon began to tear into the fearow.

"Lance, " Clair started. "Its Bruno."

He turned, and his heart sank. Even half-devoured by scavengers, there was no mistaking the mountain of a man. His warhammer lay discarded at his side, caked in dried dust. "Spores, " he said. "They were ambushed."

She knelt down, touching the dust with a finger. "Paralytic spores, " she said as she wiped the dust away on her pant leg. "That's why we haven't seen any signs of camps in the area."

"Likely was a small force of trainers, " Lance said. "There were far too many corpses at Tohjo Falls for this to have been more than a few men."

Clair looked around the clearing, warily eying the corpses. "Does the plan change?" she asked.

"No, " he replied. "Viridian is still the target." He looked up at Betherian and grimaced at the viscera painted across her maw. "Come, Betherian."

His dragon looked up from her meal, sated by the fresh meat. She shook her head, managing to shake off a fraction of the blood covering her scales. She roared to the sky, a deafening sound that shook the clearing.

Lance grinned despite the gnawing pain in his gut. "Time to go, " he ordered. "We have a city to raze."

* * *

_As always, leave me all your deepest darkest thoughts. They feed me on the lean days._


	4. Dragonfire

**_Arc 1: Death of Innocence_**

**_Dragonfire_**

_And the city burned by his hand._

* * *

The sun shone high above the coastal plains, beating down on the fields of abandoned crops. A trio of wagons slowly laboured north in the searing heat, packed to the brim with supplies. A procession of farmers followed along behind them, the few livestock deemed important enough to bring along in tow.

Red jogged up alongside the lead wagon and clambered up beside the driver. His pikachu leapt up from the ground, landing in his lap and nuzzling into his stomach. He laughed and scratched the little mouse behind the ears. "Told you we'd make good progress," he started. "We'll be in Viridian before the sun even starts to set."

His mother turned her head, a slight smile tugging at the edges of her mouth. "I guess you're right about that," she said. She peered back over her shoulder, her eyes scanning the crowd. "I still can't believe that this is all that decided to come with us," she said. "It's less than even half of Pallet."

Red shrugged. "Can you blame them?" he asked. "Most of the farmers this far south haven't even been to Viridian. They have no concept of a threat from Johto or even life outside of Pallet." He looked back at the procession and grimaced. "Though it is far less than I had hoped for."

She tipped back her waterskin and then passed it to Red. "I will say that you've handled yourself admirably. It's not easy to abandon your home."

Red turned to face her and raised an eyebrow. "It wasn't your home too?" he asked. "You've lived there since before I was even born. Didn't you and Dad build it together?"

She frowned and brushed her auburn hair out if her face. "Darling, as much as I miss that house…" She swallowed the lump in her throat and sighed. "It isn't the first home that I've had to abandon." Her soft smile crossed her face and the warmth returned to her voice. "Your father and I were no stranger to abandoning our homes."

Red looked down at his hands, mulling over the thoughts running through his head. "I wish that I knew more about him," he said. "All I ever get are stories about how brave he was, or how much he sacrificed for us…" He lifted his head and somberly met her eyes with his own. "I don't know anything about him, mum"

She pulled him closer despite the heat. "I can't replace the years without him with my memories," she said softly, her warm voice tugging at the strings of nostalgia in Red's heart. She sighed and he could hear the comforting smile in her voice. "But I can try. What do you want to know?"

He pulled away from her, looking down at his hands again. He steeled his nerves, trying to calm his madly beating heart before he spoke. "What really happened to him?" he asked. "I don't want the fake story that you always told me. I want the truth. How did he die?"

Her soft smile faded in an instant. "That's not a happy story, Red."

"I know," he replied. "But I'm practically an adult. I've pledged my service to the Viridian Trainer Corps. I've fought through and survived this gods-forsaken war." He looked off at the horizon, eyes threatening to well up with tears. "And then there was what Blue said to me..." his voice trailed off and his eyes dropped to the dirt road in front of the wagon.

"Pompous prick," she said.

Red looked up at her, surprise clearly worn on his face. "Mother?!" he exclaimed.

"What?" she replied. "He always has been. The highborn fool has only ever cared for himself." She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "What did he say then?"

He turned his head away from her, the memory of Blue's latest outburst still raw in his mind. "I tried to tell him that I knew how he felt," he said quietly. "He told me that I didn't know how he felt. Said that I could never know what it was like to lose my father, that I never had one to begin with."

She closed her eyes and clenched her fists. "I swear, I'll give that pompous fool some proper discipline once we see him." She sighed and pulled Red into a crushing hug. "Red, he got to experience sixteen years of life with a loving father. That is far more than anything you ever got to experience." She let go of the hug, still holding her son at an arm's length. "Despite that, you've grown up into a kind and just person, which is more than I could have ever asked for."

He looked at her, suppressing the tears as best he could. "Thanks, mum," he mumbled quickly as he hugged her furiously. "I love you."

She smiled and hugged back softly. "And I love you too, dear."

He pulled back, watching the horizon as the outline of Viridian's keep came into view. He gasped, and his jaw dropped. "Gods…" he uttered.

Thick clouds of black smoke billowed into the sky, spewing from the raging inferno engulfing the city. Her west walls were nothing but burning rubble. Even as they watched, plumes of dust rose into the sky as buildings crumbled before the might of the dragon.

Then they saw it. Her orange scales shone brilliantly in the light of the flames. The dragonite erupted with electricity, cutting down a trio of flyers from the flock in pursuit.

His mother turned, her eyes widening in fear. "Go," she ordered. "You must help them."

He stood up, lifting one of the three balls off his belt. "Take the rest of Pallet to safety. Don't stop until you reach somewhere safe."

"Be careful," she cautioned. She stood up, eyes drawn across the coastal plain that stretched to the south and west of Viridian. "I'll be safe. We'll go to Cinnabar or Fucshia. There should be a few schooners left in the harbour."

He tossed the ball into the air, releasing the pokemon within. A pair of wicked talons dug into the ground, carving furrows into the dirt road. The dodrio squawked twice, its middle and left heads screeching at each other in annoyance.

Red stepped off the wagon, his pikachu perched on his shoulder. He approached his flightless bird, his fists clenched as Viridian burned in the distance. He swung himself up onto the dodrio and grimaced as what remained of the western watchtower toppled over into the burning city. "Leaf…"

He pushed the thoughts from his mind, banishing any weakness. He squeezed his ankles into the massive bird's haunches. They shot off in a cloud of dust, leaving the caravan far behind.

* * *

Lance glanced back over his shoulder, checking on Clair. "Less than a minute out," he said. "They'll have noticed us by now."

She nodded and looked up at him, shielding her face from the rushing wind. "That was the plan, wasn't it?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied brusquely. He turned back to look at the city and Betherian rapidly closed the distance. "Don't stop pushing forward. They'll try to hold you in one place and concentrate their strength on you." He gripped the pommel of his blade nervously and fidgeted in the saddle. "I'll try to keep their attention focused on me, but I doubt that I'll be able to draw all of them off you."

She pulled her helm over her head and grimaced. "You won't have to. Just keep the big ones focused on you and open the damn gates on your way in."

He nodded and placed his palm on Betherian's side. He immersed himself in their bond, letting his dragon's internal fire kindle his own. The dull ache in his gut faded and he felt the blood quicken in his veins. He opened his eyes and saw the world through Betherian's eyes. He saw the flurry of movement atop the walls as Viridian's defenders desperately hauled their ballistae into firing position. Dozens of mounted warriors flew forth from the walls, meeting his suicidal charge with one of their own.

He leaned forward and grinned with vicious anticipation. "Extremespeed into Dragon Rush," he ordered.

Betherian flapped her wings once, rocketing forward with unnatural speed. The ballistae fired, sending their bolts sailing towards where the dragon had been mere moments ago. She slammed into the gatehouse, cloaked in an aura of draconic power.

Viridian's walls exploded inwards as Betherian drove into the gatehouse and reduced it to rubble. Chunks of stone sailed through the air, crashing down onto the city and carving paths of destruction before they came to a crashing halt among the crumbling buildings.

Betherian roared a challenge to the sky, azure flames spilling out of her maw and torching the few men who dared to stir in the destruction she had wrought. The flames eagerly caught on the wooden shanties that stretched alongside the walls. Within moments an inferno of raging dragonfire sprung up, the city's outer slums only serving to fuel the blaze.

Clair slipped off her back, releasing a pair of dragonair that coiled themselves around her protectively. She pointed up at the dozens of winged beasts as she drew a pair of smooth curved blades. "Go!" she ordered as she dashed off into the burning city with her dragons in tow.

Lance barely waited for her to finish before he urged Betherian skyward. She bellowed and flung herself back into the sky, twisting to fire a blast of lightning at the closest trainer.

The trainer and his pidgeot screeched in unison, their bodies illuminated by the electricity coursing through them. Betherian cut off the flow of lightning as they plummeted to the earth, landing with a sickening crunch among the rubble. She opened her maw, loosing a stream of flames that seared the feathers of a diving fearow. The bird's rider screamed in pain as he was flung from the saddle. He plummeted to the ground and lay silent.

Lance grinned as his dragon's bloodlust overtook them both. He thrust a fist into the air and shouted a savage war cry that Betherian eagerly repeated. They roared in unison, dragon and tamer united in terrible purpose.

The first pidgeot slammed into Betherien, talons rending a bloody gash in her left flank. She loosed another bolt of lightning that soared past the pidgeot and struck one of the fearow that ventured too close. The bird dropped from the sky, crashing lifelessly through the roof of a building. The pidgeot veered off, flapping away from another bolt of lightning that tore another trio of trainers from the sky.

Lance gritted his teeth and held fast to his dragon. "Dragon Rush!" he shouted, his voice rippling with power. Betherien bellowed and dove towards the gates of Viridian Keep as an aura of draconic power enveloped her.

The dragonite slammed into the gatehouse with all the force she could muster. The stone structure exploded into the courtyard, crushing a bloody path through the defenders' formation. The stones rose into the air and sailed over the rest of the defense harmlessly.

The remaining flyers landed along the wall, looking down over Viridian's remaining strength. Dozens of men so frail that their weapons trembled in their grasp. Only the old and sickly still remained, gathered here in a final act of defiance.

Towering over them all, stood the elder Oak. His charizard stood tall, flames on his tail burning a vibrant orange. He looked to his sides, glancing at the team of pokemon that he had trained his whole life.

The blastoise and scyther to his right stared forward, steel gaze eying the cloud of dust where the gatehouse had exploded. He looked to his left and nodded at the venasaur and alakazam that stood in resolute silence.

Dozens of war cries rang out as the dust cleared on the ruins of the gatehouse. Lance stood astride his dragon, purple fire burning behind his eyes. His cape flapped out behind him, streaming in the salty breeze blowing in from the harbour.

He slipped off Betherian and landed deftly at the edge of the courtyard. He slowly drew the bastard sword sheathed on his back. Pure power radiated off him in waves as Betherian tossed back her head and roared.

"Where is the little Lord Oak!" he started, his voice rippling with draconic power. He took a step towards the defenders with his blade held lazily at his side. "I've come to congratulate him on his new station."

The charizard growled as if to silence Lance. The elder slipped off his back, staring down the dragon tamer who stood before him. "You've got nerve showing up here after what you've done. Viridian aches for your blood, tamer."

Lance grinned mercilessly. "I had hoped that you would see reason, elder, and swear yourselves to me." The grin faded and Lance felt the bloodlust echo across his bond with Betherian. "However, it seems as though I've been naive. You would rather hold onto your pride than see to the survival of your people." He planted his feet and raised his blade into a fighting stance. "I did not come here for another massacre, but I have the strength to do what must be done."

"You will leave this place or die, tamer," the elder said. He drew his own blade and took his shield from an attendant. "I will see to that myself. Your blasted war has already cost me my son. I will not allow you to continue it any further."

"Then submit!" Lance shouted, his voice booming over the courtyard. "Pledge your fealty or face the true might of the dragon!"

Elder Oak's expression hardened as he took up a fighting stance beside his pokemon. "Kanto will never submit to you," he said, calm fury building in his voice. "Do your worst, foul beast!"

Lance looked up at the charizard towering over them all and met its sharp gaze. Blue steely eyes glared back at him, piercing him with the intensity of their gaze. Lance breathed in sharply, marvelling at the pseudo-dragon that stood before him. He could almost feel the same draconic energy that emanated from Betherian and himself stirring deep inside the charizard.

"Legend has it that the charizard line used to be true dragons. But they grew arrogant in their power and acted with wanton aggression. The other dragons cast them out and culled their numbers down to a few scattered clans on the edges of the world." He looked up at the charizard in awe, bathing in the draconic energy surging around the two of them. "Over the ages, they lost the abilities that made them so feared and worshipped by humanity." Betherian roared again, a sound that shook the foundations of the castle.

Lance reached upwards, extending every ounce of his energy into lighting the embers of draconic power inside the charizard. They stirred at his urging, flickering deep inside the belly of the beast. The massive charizard blinked, its eyes shifting from a pale blue to a bloody red hue. Lance's eyes widened as the Elder's charizard lowered his snout into Lance's face.

"I may not believe everything the Elders said," he started. "but every legend is born in truth." He sliced a thin cut on the palm of his hand and squeezed his hand into a fist. Blood ran freely into the dirt, its intoxicating scent drawing the charizard in closer. Lance could feel the charizard's fire straining to break free after centuries of dormancy. He opened his bloody palm and pressed it on the charizard's snout.

Draconic energy flowed through Lance in an exhilarating rush. The dragon inside him roared with power as it ignited a fire that lay dormant for an eon. Lance threw his head back as an explosion of violet energy erupted from his palm and enveloped the charizard.

The charizard roared in agony as his internal flame morphed into an inferno of dragonfire. Azure flames spilled from his maw, washing over his body and charring his orange scales pitch black. His roared as his limbs rippled and thickened before Lance's eyes. The charizard tossed his head back and roared as the flame on his tail erupted into a raging blue flame.

"Fang!" shouted the elder, looking up at his oldest pokemon in fear. His voice wavered as the dragon turned his gaze on him and growled in a deep and feral tone. His eyes widened as the dragon's hungry glare devoured every inch of his body. "Impossible…" he said, a defeated tone seeping into his voice.

"You should have submitted," Lance boomed again. Betherian landed at his side, her growl growing to match the charizard's. "It would have been easier."

* * *

Clair dashed down the burning hallway, the edge of her travel cloak clamped tightly over her mouth. Betherian's deafening roar shook the castle and threatened to bring the burning remains of the keep down on her head. A deeper, unrestrained roar answered Betherian, forcing Clair to steady herself on the wall.

She recoiled from the searing hot stone, hissing through the pain. Dragonfire burned fast and the fires that she and Lance had started were spreading. Even the keep itself would soon be engulfed by the blaze. She pushed the burning pain from her mind as she forced herself to continue her mad dash deeper into the keep.

She rounded a corner and pointed at the heavy oaken doors at the end of the hallway. "Aqua Tail!" she shouted, her voice muffled by her cloak. The dragonair at her left shoulder surged forward, her tail wreathed in a layer of shimmering water. The door burst open and Clair's jaw practically hit the floor.

Viridian's treasure vault stood unprotected, the mountains of gold beckoning her deeper into the vault. Dozens of statues glittered at her from every angle, jewelled Mew figures and golden Ho-Oh busts leering down at her. Her eyes fell to the empty altar laying in the centre of Viridian's treasury. A single solitary sheet of parchment lay on the altar, beckoning her forward.

She glanced down at the sheet, silently fuming.

_Dear Tamers,_

_Too late!_

_Sincerely, Elder Samuel Oak_

She looked up at the leering bust of a Zapdos. Kanto's God of Lightning seemed to grin down at her, its razor-sharp beak seemingly curved into a mocking smile. She frowned and sneered in the face of a mocking god.

Another ravenous bellow shook the castle to its bones. Clair cried out in shock as chunks of hewn stone dropped from the ceiling and crashed among the treasure. The wall crumbled in towards her, a battered and charred blastoise shell landing in the treasure. One of her dragonair leapt to her defense, coiling around her mere moments before an avalanche of gold crashed against them both.

She emerged from the coils of her dragonair, her twin blades bared in anticipation of a new threat.

The blastoise emerged from his shell as barely a shadow of the fearsome creature he had once been. His normally blue and leathery skin was charred black in patches. The right side of his face was a bloody mess of gouge marks. Try as she might, Clair could see no eye socket where the beast's eye should have been. Its left leg was a bloody stump, cleanly torn off at the knee.

Movement behind Clair drew her attention. Scales as black as night and stained red with blood shone through the rubble. She gasped as the midnight form of a true dragon rose from the pile of treasure.

"By the gods…" she started. She dropped to her knees and bowed her head in reverence. The pair of dragonair at her shoulders bowed their own heads, paying their respects to the creature that stood before them. "A true charizard…"

The charizard tossed back his head and roared in triumph, bringing more of the keep down around them with the sheer force of his cry. He lowered his head, eyes murderously locked on the struggling blastoise.

Clair averted her eyes as the dragon descended on his foe. Slowly, the blastoise's pained struggles slowed, until it lay silent at the feet of the charizard. Only then did Clair dare to look at the dragon.

It lay crouched over the eviscerated blastoise, growling protectively at her dragonair. His midnight scales were stained a slick red with steaming blood. Azure flames erupted from his maw, melting a mountain of treasure into a golden slag heap.

Clair couldn't help but snort in laughter. The beast was protecting his kill. She reached out for the dragon's essence and recoiled in shock.

An unmistakably familiar wave of power rolled over her. She leapt to her feet, her blades at the ready. Lance's aura roared inside the charizard, cowing her into submission.

Tears rolled freely down her face as she beheld the charizard. It was as though Lance had imprinted a part of himself on the beast, changing the charizard into something ripped straight from Blackthorn's legends.

"You are beautiful, " she crooned. "A true dragon if I've ever seen one."

He dissolved in a flash of red light. Then she felt his presence and couldn't help but gasp in awe.

Lance stepped into the treasure room, his cape draped over his shoulders ominously. He walked with strength and purpose, his bastard sword sheathed on his back. A thin cut traced a line down his cheekbone, the only remnant of the battle outside. Raw draconic power radiated from his form.

"Clair." He shifted, and she caught a glimpse of his arm clamped over his stomach. "It is done, " he stated flatly.

"What did you do?"

His expression hardened and the fire faded from his eyes. "What had to be done." He cast his gaze around the ruined vault. "The artefact?" he asked.

"Gone, " she replied. She held out the parchment she had found, a bitter tone in her voice. "It seems that they anticipated your arrival."

"They evacuated most of the city, " he said. "The elder likely sent it off to Pewter along with the little Lord."

"Then we should make haste. We could catch them unawares and take the artefact."

Lance shook his head. "And slaughter the rest of the smallfolk?" he asked. "They did not ask for this war, and they have already paid with their home. Let them flee."

She frowned. "But the artefact-"

"I have no desire for another massacre, Clair. Let it be for now. The gods care little for our petty squabbles. They will wait."

She nodded and sheathed her blades in a fluid movement. "Then our work here is done."

He turned and strode from the ruins of the treasure vault, his cape billowing about in the salty sea breeze. "And yet there is still so much more to be done." Smoke and ash spewed into the sky as Viridian burned. Lance looked up at the burning sky and sighed. "We should return to Indigo. They will be awaiting our return."

Clair sidled up beside him, looking out beside her cousin. Only bones and ashes greeted them. "They will sing songs of this day for ages to come. Both sides of the Argents will remember your deeds today."

Lance's gaze dropped to the smouldering husk of the dying city. "Of that there is no doubt, " he replied curtly. "Whether they will be songs of fear or joy remains to be seen."

* * *

_Leave me all your reviews! They bring me the joyous gift of inspiration!_


	5. Bones and Ashes

**_Death of Innocence _**

**_Bones and Ashes_**

_So the little lord wept. Survival at all costs._

* * *

Red slipped off his dodrio, his heart sinking as he fell to his knees among the rubble of the western gatehouse. The slums that had pressed up against the walls of the city were simply gone. Only a few rickety metal shells remained, the lone survivors of the inferno that had engulfed the city. A layer of ash had settled over the remains and cast the destruction in grey light.

The sky still burned red in the light of the fires still raging deeper into the city. Plumes of smoke and ash had engulfed the sky above, blotting out the sun and plunging the city into fiery darkness.

"By the gods, " Red started. His eyes scanned the field of ash, searching for any signs of life. "Gone…" His voice cracked and he choked back a sob. He blinked back the tears already beginning to fall. "No." He rose to his feet, barely noticing that his pikachu had clambered atop his shoulder.

He returned his dodrio to her ball without a word. With all the ash and debris littered around she would be of little use, more likely to trip on buried debris. He dropped the ball back into the pouch on his belt and unconsciously rested his hand over the pommel of his blade.

"Somebody has to have survived." He looked at his pikachu, hoping to convince himself of that. "Leaf, or the elder. They're not dead."

A deafening roar crushed his hope as quickly as it had appeared. Vibrant, shimmering orange scales rose above the keep. Lance's dragonite landed atop the ramparts of the keep, her wings flapping madly as she stabilized herself.

Even from the ruins of the gatehouse, Red could see the pair of tamers perched on her back. He clenched his fists at the sight of them and felt his nails dig into the palm of his hand deep enough to draw blood.

The dragonite tossed back her head and let loose a triumphant roar that shook the earth. She spread her wings and launched herself into the sky. Red shivered in fear as the dragon disappeared into the clouds of smoke.

He heard her roar once more, already fading in the distance. He looked down on the burning keep and swallowed the lump in his throat. He took a step towards the keep as a grim silence descended on the city.

* * *

Blue had seen it at about mid-day. He'd nearly leapt from the bow of the ship, only Brock's iron grip keeping him from plunging into the surf.

A plume of black smoke rose from the horizon, from where Viridian stood. He could make out a dull orange glow at the base of the cloud. Viridian was burning, while he had left to secure help. He was powerless to do anything but watch in horror as they sailed towards Viridian's harbour.

The flame ravaged ruins of the docks reached out for them as if they were skeletal limbs straining for their last chance at salvation. Warehouses that held fortunes of valuable goods sat as hollow shells of their former selves. All was silent, save for the waves lapping against hull of the ship.

They had been forced to take the dinghy ashore, leaving the ship moored in the harbour. All the jetties that had been large enough to dock at had been scoured away by the flames, leaving only a few charred mooring posts behind.

The city itself was completely devoid of life. Silence reigned over the fields of ash. Not a soul dared to speak and break the pall that had fallen over the group. Only Blue had dared to utter a word as they crossed a solitary path of footprints.

"A survivor, " he said, his voice dry and hoarse.

Brock simply nodded as his eyes traced the path in the direction of the keep. "Aye, seems likely. Nobody else would dare walk through that hellscape."

Blue followed the path for what seemed like an eternity. They passed dozens of bodies as they closed in on the keep. Charred bones littered the path that had once been the main road to his father's keep.

Blue shut his eyes and slowed his breathing to a crawl. He still thought of Viridian as his father's, though he had assumed the throne more than a month ago. Viridian was his now, and his first act had been to abandon his people to the dragon. He cursed himself silently and opened his eyes. He would not let himself wallow in despair. He was still a Lord, even if his city was naught but ash.

"Is this to be my legacy? A burning husk of a city, left behind for me to find." He turned, finally meeting Brock's eyes. He had avoided his friend's gaze since they had entered the city. Brock's eyes were hard, searching him for any sign of weakness. Blue shoved the thought of Viridian burning from his mind, burying the pain under a mountain of confidence. "I will not be broken, " he spat, his voice swelling with conviction. "I will not fall into the gods-damned abyss!"

Brock nodded imperceptibly, lifting his wineskin off his belt. "You are stronger than most, " he remarked. He contemplated Blue for a moment, studying his expression. "To hell with it, " he said as he tipped back a wineskin and drained the rest. "I pledge my fealty to you, as the rightful King of Kanto."

Blue's expression morphed into one of shock. "Are you drunk?"

"Yes, " he replied. "However, it changes nothing. Kanto stands upon the edge of a blade. The other nobles are petty fools, content to squabble amongst themselves. I see only one man capable of cutting through their collective tauros-crap."

Blue shook his head. "I'm little more than a child to them, Brock. Do you so quickly forget how easily they dismissed me?"

"I do not, " he replied. "However, you have something that none of them do."

He raised an eyebrow, oblivious to this seemingly hidden advantage. "Pray tell, what would that be?"

Brock puffed his chest out, pride swelling in his voice. Blue could feel the conviction behind his words and knew Brock spoke the truth. "You have the support of another Lord. Not one of them can claim that."

He paused, taken aback by Brock's admission. "Thank you, " he started meekly. "I am unsure if I deserve that support though. My home is gone, my city wiped away. I would be a beggar king, with naught but empty words and a city of ashes to my name."

"That is precisely why I choose you. You have no army to threaten us with. You don't have the power base to become a tyrant, nor the temperament to do so. Your power wouldn't be through the strength of your legions, but of those who chose to pledge themselves to you in service of their people."

Blue paused, contemplating his words. "As idyllic as that sounds, I do not believe that the others will fall in line."

Brock grinned viciously. "Then we make them, " he said. "Challenge them to single combat one by one, just as Oak kings of old did. Defeat them all and they'll follow you to the end of the world and back."

A new voice cut through the silence of the dead city. "Aye!" Red yelled. He picked his way through the rubble, careful to avoid the corpse of a fallen pidgeot that lay across the road. "I agree with Lord Takeshi."

"Red?" Blue blurted. His friend was covered in soot and ash, every inch of his clothing and skin stained a dark grey. "You look like a ghost. What happened here?"

Red hung his head. "We were evacuating, " he said. He closed his eyes, a pained expression worn on his face. "The dragon came alone, and this is what he wrought. Kanto needs a king more than ever, or all of us will face the same fate."

"Are there any other survivors?" Blue asked, a hopeful tone creeping into his voice. If Red had survived then perhaps someone else had too. "Leaf? Gramps?"

The colour drained from Red's face and a distant look glazed over his eyes. "I don't know about Leaf…" he trailed off and his voice died in his throat.

"Gramps…"

"He didn't make it, Blue. It was Lance himself. We never stood a chance." Red took a step forward, and attempted to put a hand on Blue's shoulder.

The older boy shrugged him off and looked up at the broken shape of Viridian's keep. "Where is he?" he asked in a flat tone. "We have to bury him."

Red shook his head. His face turned a pale green and he swallowed the lump forming in his throat. "Them, " he said. "We have to bury them."

* * *

Blue hadn't stopped staring at the horizon. His eyes didn't leave the smokey haze still hanging over Viridian. The sun had long since set over the bay but he still stood there, watching in silent fury and mourning as the ship sailed for Pewter. Red stubbornly stayed at his side, the two boys watching in solemn silence as they left their home behind.

Brock sidled up beside the two boys, a thick wineskin clutched in his hands. He tipped it back, swallowing the liquid courage easily. "Here, " he said brusquely as he forced the skin into Red's hands. "It'll help."

Red nodded and took the wineskin from Brock. "Have you ever seen anything like that?" he asked. "A city reduced to nothing like that?"

Brock shook his head. "Not once, " he said. "I admire your strength. Lesser men would have broken in the face of evil like that."

"What use is breaking?" Blue asked, his voice bitter and cold. "Lance has to pay for what he did. Who else will bring him a reckoning for his affronts if not me?"

Red tipped the wineskin back and shuddered from the taste. "We'll do it together, " he said. He pushed the wineskin towards Blue, attempting to break through the cloud of mourning that Blue hid behind. "Just like always."

Blue reluctantly took the wineskin from Red, tentatively tipping it back. "Where do you get the blinding optimism?" he asked. " It's quite grating at times."

"Don't start on me because you're angry. We're both-"

Blue pitched the wineskin into the sea and rounded on Red in one swift movement. "You are angry. I am beyond angry. In one day, I lost the last few members of my family, and walked through that gods-damned hellscape!"

"We don't know that Daisy's-"

"Exactly!" Blue shouted, cutting Red off with a sharp glare. "We don't know! So I've had enough of you telling me that everything is gonna be ok."

Red took a step back. "You've been a right prick since-"

"Since what?!" Blue exploded. "Since my father was killed and I became the lord of a city of the dead?" He clenched his fists and Red could see him shaking in anger. "My entire life has been ripped to pieces. I think that I have the right to be in a foul mood!"

"We both lost-"

"What did you lose? You said it yourself, your mother is alive. You never had a father to lose, how could you possibly-"

Red swung a wild punch that connected solidly with Blue's jaw. He stumbled back in stunned silence as Red seethed at his friend.

"You have no right to lay hands on me, lowborn." Blue cracked his knuckles and took a step towards Red.

The boys launched at each other, going down in a tangle of flying fists.

"That is enough!" Brock shouted. He grabbed Blue by the scruff of his neck and hauled him off of Red and shoved him away. "You will go down to the galley and fetch me another wine!"

Blue spat a glob of blood, his eyes stabbing daggers into Red. He turned on his heels and stormed off in the direction of the ship's galley.

Brock watched him go, only turning to look at Red once blue had disappeared below deck. "You will go make yourself useful among the crew. Best make yourself scarce until we make landfall."

He nodded in reply, gingerly poking at his bruised cheek. "Yes, your lordship."

* * *

Leaf's eyes scanned the treeline for the hundredth time. She steadied her breath, and reached for the longbow leaning against the wooden stockade.

"You spook too easily, little ghost."

She glanced away from the treeline and nocked an arrow. "All the better to be vigilant. We've lost too many people to predators. The Stone Road was never built to accommodate thousands upon thousands of people."

"And yet it is our best and only path through the forest. We knew what the costs would be when we embarked upon this path"

She glanced at him and pulled her bow to full draw. "Nox, " she whispered. Tendrils of shadow curled around the arrowhead as her gengar merged with the arrow. She sighted the shadow that had been stalking closer to their encampment and exhaled slowly.

She let the arrow fly, sending it screaming through the air. It slammed into the haunches of the nidorino lurking at the treeline and buried deep into muscle. Nox burst from the wound, clawing at the beast with a shadowy talon. It shrieked and bolted into the darkness with Nox mercilessly laughing.

"That doesn't mean that we should abandon the smallfolk to the forest, " she said as she watched the nidorino flee. "Our duty is to them."

He nodded in response and looked out into the night. "That's why I have a task for you. The scouts have reported that the next stockade is similarly overgrown. The forest is reclaiming them faster than we had thought possible."

She remained silent, scanning the treeline for more threats. "We should have crossed into Pewter's territory by now. These stockades should be manned by this point." She drew another arrow and nocked it.

"They've likely pulled most of their men off the Stone Road. The defeat at Indigo cost us all dearly. I would see little use in manning a half dozen ineffective fortresses along one of the most raw expanses of wilderness this side of the Argent Mountains." He scratched at an itch under his beard and adjusted his simple leather chest piece. "We are undoubtedly on our own, Trainer. Circumstance has not been kind to us, but Viridian lives thanks to our actions."

She lowered the arrow and turned to look at him. The trIp through the forest had not been kind to Viridian's grizzled old guard captain. His skin was pale and sagging badly under his cheeks. She understood his pain. There had been ninety-seven members of the city guard when they had fled the city. Twelve died in the first three days. Another twenty in the week after that. Hundreds of the smallfolk had simply disappeared as well. His family was dying before his eyes and there was little he could do to stem the tide.

"I need someone who can navigate through a forest, someone who can chart us a path without getting themselves killed." He grimaced as he turned to look out over the encamped smallfolk. Dozens of small fires burned around the camp, casting flickering shadows on the ominous trees surrounding the clearing. "My guards can keep the smallfolk safe enough, but we can't find a safe path through to the next stockade."

She nodded at him. "But I can."

"Yes, " he replied. "You're the last trainer under my command, but there's more to it than that. You're a natural out here. I've never seen anyone so at ease in a place like this."

"There's a reason for that, " she said quietly. "I'm not like most people. "

The old captain simply smiled. "That's what I'm counting on,"

* * *

The Stone Road, even in its state of disrepair, was simple enough to follow. Great slabs of stone paved a winding path through the forest, hewn from the quarries in Pewter in an age long passed. Despite the forest's efforts to erase man's creation, the Stone Road itself endured the unrelenting creep of the forest with nary a complaint save for a few cracked slabs of stone.

As Leaf looked up at the stockade, she couldn't help but marvel at the forest growth climbing up the wooden palisade. A thicket of young saplings had invaded the small clearing around the stockade, standing at attention as if they awaited the orders of some great lord of the forest. She smirked at the thought, imagining a great bearded tree holding court among the leafy shade of the forest.

The sudden twitch of a branch broke through Leaf's imagination and brought the court intrigue of the forest to a crashing halt. She tore her blade free of its scabbard and silently called out for Nox. The ghost echoed a frantic response, too far out to be of any immediate assistance. She'd sent him off to follow the stantler tracks that had crossed the road several miles back, in the hope that she'd be able to secure a significant haul of fresh meat.

The nido pack burst from the underbrush with a collective snarl of fury. An invader had entered their home and they were serving as the first line of defence. She brought her blade up defensively, swiping at the nidorino that fancied himself braver than the rest of his pack. He slunk back into the pack with a gash marring his purple snout.

A guttural bellow drew the pack's attention, and Leaf realized just how much danger she was in. The nidoking stretched to his full height, titanic muscles rippling under thick plates of mottled purple armour. A clearly pregnant nidoqueen huddled behind him, a half-dozen nidoran pups peeking around her armoured legs.

"Shit, " Leaf swore as she backpedalled away from the pack. It was birthing season and she had stumbled into a nido pack's den. Her hand dropped to her belt, grabbing the ball tucked in the small pouch hanging at her side. "Saur, keep them occupied!"

Her ivysaur roared an angry protest, his vines whipping out to trip up the pair of charging nidorino. The nido pack stopped in its tracks as a storm of wickedly sharp leaves whipped from Saur's bulb.

With the nidorino occupied, Leaf's hand dropped to her belt again and tapped on the last ball held there. Seraph shrieked in surprise, flapping madly to gain altitude as the pair of nidorina barrelled towards them.

She got her blade up just in time to stop the lead nidorina from gutting her with a flash of its claws. She spun off the clumsy charge of the other nido, opening a thin gash down the beast's flank. It shrieked in pain as she scampered away and began a retreat towards the treeline.

A guttural cry ripped through the clearing as one of Saur's vines finally slipped around the hind legs of his attackers. The nidorino squirmed and struggled as the ivysaur lifted his foe high above the forest floor. He hung there, bleating desperately at the wary nidoking.

Saur slammed the nidorino into the dirt with a savage grunt. It thrashed once, before Saur lifted it back into the air and flung it into the walls of the palisade where it lay deathly still.

Seraph landed like a missile, her talons burying into the base of the nidorina's skull. It dropped without a sound, dead before her body had even hit the ground. The pidgeot shrieked a savage cry of victory and spread her wings in a blatant show of intimidation.

The remaining nido pair beat a hasty retreat, falling into line behind the nidoking. The monarch of the forest took a wary step toward the invaders trespassing on his kingdom, primal fury nearly overwhelming Leaf with the intensity of the emotion.

Leaf felt the temperature drop nearly imperceptibly and a chill run down her spine. Nox emerged from the Nidoking's shadow with a murderous cackle. The gengar raked his claws along the nidoking's underbelly, drawing a fountain of blood. The monarch of the forest doubled over with an armoured paw clutching at the wound.

Nox seized upon the opening, driving his claws into the monarch's throat with barely restrained glee. Leaf felt the euphoria echo across her bond with the wraith and fought down the urge to laugh along with the gengar's manic laughter. The human part of her mind recoiled in horror as Nox shredded the nidoking's throat with a flurry of vicious swipes.

Leaf bit back the bile rising in her throat as the headless corpse of the nidoking crashed to the dirt. Her bond with the shade was a disturbing facet of her mind and she found herself slipping into sadistic thoughts far too often for her liking.

The nidoqueen lowered her shoulder and charged her, fury at the gruesome death of her mate fuelling her charge. Nox melted into the shadows as the nidoqueen barrelled past him, leaving the headless monarch behind.

Leaf sheathed her sword as she charged the nidoqueen. "Saur, razor leaf!" The barrage of leaves whipped against the queen's hide, forcing her forearms up to protect her face. Leaf dropped into a slide, ducking under the nidoqueen's thunderous charge. She whipped her hunting knife from its sheath and buried it in the back of the queen's calf as she slid past.

The nidoqueen stumbled as her leg buckled under her weight. She cried out in anguish and glanced down at her dead mate. Leaf felt a pang of guilt as she drew her blade. She silently prayed, pleading with the gods that the queen wouldflee rather than fight to the bitter end.

The monarch roared in defiance as she took the first step towards Leaf. She swore under her breath as she called out for Nox. The ghost exploded from the shadow of a tree, peppering the queen with a barrage of shadow balls. She screeched in pain, her armour riddled with smoking black pockmarks.

Leaf leapt into action, charging the nidoqueen as she turned to follow the wraith. Saur battered the monarch with another barrage of razor leaves that served to tear more attention away from his trainer. Leaf leapt as high as she could and brought her blade down in a savage thrust. Her blade sank into the queen's back up to its hilt.

The nidoqueen reacted with a visceral scream of pain and horror. She flailed madly in a desperate attempt to dislodge Leaf, nearly bucking the young trainer off of her. An agonizing screech tore from the nidoqueen and Leaf felt a nauseating euphoria overtake her. The monarch doubled over and clutched at her belly, throwing Leaf off as she screamed.

Leaf rolled with the momentum and came up on one knee. She looked back at the nidoqueen, completely weaponless with both of her blades still buried in the nidoqueen's armour. Nox burst from the monarch's belly with a spray of bloody fluid, a deformed nido pup clutched in each claw. She gasped and closed her eyes as she realized what the ghost's intentions were.

She shuddered at the visceral joy that Nox took in finishing off the nidoqueen and her brood. Try as she might, there was no blocking out the rush of raw emotion that echoed across her bond with the ghost. She didn't dare open her eyes until the pained screams of the dying queen finally faded.

The ghost stuck out his tongue at the surviving nidos, showering them with a spray of ectoplasm. They broke and ran before the murderous gengar could turn his attention on them as well.

"I hate you, " Leaf said, her eyes stabbing daggers into Nox's immaterial form. "I really really hate you."

He melted into the shadows and Leaf felt a shiver run down her spine. The gengar's unnatural ability to use shadows as a form of travel had never failed to give her the creeps. She felt his presence in her mind grow and she knew that he had hidden himself in her shadow.

She closed her eyes and calmed the emotions roiling below the surface. Nox was powerful, and his presence often brought unpleasant thoughts to the forefront of her mind. Keeping the murderous gengar's urges in check was a constant battle of will that she was dangerously close to losing.

Her eyes closed as she slowed her breathing. Her hand dove into the folds of her shirt and closed around the crescent moon charm that hung around her neck. The world seemed to slow to a crawl as she began to recite the meditations she had been taught in Lavender. "Life in death, death in life."

She opened her eyes to Nox's sickly yellow pupils gazing lovingly into her own. It was all she could do not to scream.

* * *

Leaf crouched over the old man's corpse, her fists balled in frustration. "How did this happen?" she asked. Not even a day out from the edge of the forest and death still dogged their every step.

The guardsman closest to her bowed his head. "We found him like this at dawn. I went to rouse him, but he wouldn't wake."

She sighed heavily and massaged her temples with a fury that would have made the old man proud. "Who is the next in line for command?"

"Guardsman Harrison, although he has expressed his extreme distaste for the role." He glanced over at the other guardsman, who shot him a pointed look. "If I may be so bold, he brought up your name as a suggestion."

Leaf knelt down and pulled the heavy blanket over the captain's face. "And what would your opinion be?" she asked.

He stiffened his spine and held his head high. "Viridian has always been a bastion of diversity. We've never shied from taking in those who find themselves with no family. It's one of the things that made us the envy of Kanto. We were a city of outcasts and pariahs that forged our own future. Your appointment as commander would be a testament to that strength in these trying times."

"Are there no others who wish to lead?"

He shook his head and folded his arms across his chest. "There are others who would accept the role, but all have admitted their preference to accepting your command."

She sighed and looked to the sky for some kind of sign. Nox floated by on a spectral wind, grinning down at her with rotting teeth. His rotting tongue lolled out of his mouth and she fought back the urge to puke.

Her eyes met the guardsman's and she steeled her resolve for what came next. She cleared her throat with a quick cough and unconsciously clasped her hand over the hilt of her blade. "Get the smallfolk ready to move, " she ordered as she spun towards the small stockade. "I want us mobile before we burn too much daylight and a full report on our supply situation before we break camp."

The guardsman beamed an impossibly large smile at her and nearly broke in half in his hurry to bow in respect. "Yes, commander. Will that be all?"

She turned and looked back at the corpse of the withered old captain. "Lay him to rest with the others. I'll perform the necessary rites myself."

* * *

Blue sighed as he ran the whetstone down the length of his blade. He lifted the edge up to his eye, not bothering to look over at the cause of his discomfort. "I thought you were ordered to remain with the crew, " he said. "What brings you up here?"

Red pulled himself into the crow's nest with his pikachu precariously percher on his shoulder. The little mouse hopped down and nuzzled into Blue's waiting hand. "Came to cheer your stubborn ass up, " he replied. He sat down heavily beside Blue and glanced down at his blade. "You really climbed all the way up here with that thing?"

Blue smirked slightly remembering the precarious climb up. More than once, he had nearly slipped and fallen on his own blade. "Yeah, I just needed some time away from everything." He looked up at the moon, his hand absentmindedly resting on the satchel on his belt. "I like looking at the moon. It helps me clear my thoughts. Gramps always said that an Oak's mind always worked best under a clear sky."

Red studied him hard, his eyes searching Blue's face for any hint of emotion. "He also once said that in hard times, the true measure of a man are the friends who stand at his side."

Blue's eyes narrowed as his gaze fell on Red. "Are you my friend now, commoner?"

"That's not fair, Blue. We've been sparring partners for nearly thirteen years."

He shook his head in reply. "Is that supposed to mean something? The scullery maid served my family since before I was born. Yet, I did not count her among my friends. I scarcely even remember her name."

"Maria, " he said. "Her name was Maria. She had three children, and a husband in the city gua-"

"That is enough, " Blue interrupted. "I do not wish to speak of this."

Red shook his head in frustration. "You are to be a king. Your subjects deserve for you to speak of this."

Blue sighed and sheathed his blade. "I never wanted to be a king. I never chose this."

"True kings rarely do. They serve at the leisure of those who have pledged themselves to them."

Blue closed his eyes and clenched his fists. "What did you really come up here for? To lecture me on responsibility that I do not want?"

Red glanced down at the pouch on Blue's belt and sighed."To remind you of the friends still at your side." He turned to leave and looked back at Blue again as his pikachu happily leapt up onto his shoulder. "You should let her out. She likes the moon."

Blue remained silent while Red clambered down the rigging. He had his stubborn moments, but even Blue had to admit that his friend was right. His hand dove into the satchel, rummaging through for his eevee's ball. She did like the moon after all.

* * *

_Chapter 5 _marks_ the end of Salvation's first official story arc. __**Death of Innocence**__ follows the end of the Ghost Queen's reign and leads up to the real war to follow. The stage is set, and the invasion is set to begin in earnest! Or does it..._

_Stay tuned to find out! As always, drop me a review or a pm to let me know what you thought! Any kind of feedback is greatly encouraged!_


	6. To Defy a God

**Arc 2: A Broken Promise**

**To Defy a God**

_Two Kings of the West. Their battle is fated._

* * *

There was a certain strength to the charizard. A torrential flow of primal energy rippled off of his midnight scales, drowning out Betherian's essence with raw, screaming power. He had never felt anything quite like it. He raised the battered old pokeball up towards the beast. With a swift movement, he snapped the priceless artifact in half at the hinge. The pieces clattered away from him, falling broken to the ground.

The fell beast lowered his snout, peering directly into his eyes. A lesser man would have broken the eye contact. But Lance was no lesser man. He wasn't even entirely certain he could be called a man anymore. Things had been different since Indigo. He had been different.

The dragon before him was just the latest sign that he had been irreversibly changed by his battle with Agatha. The dragon inside him had always been there, its fire burning under the surface of his mind. Now, the dragon was truly awake. Lance had never felt an inferno like the one that raged inside him. It was equal parts terrifying and magnificent.

The charizard's internal flame burned in a near-perfect reflection of his own. It was as if in waking the dragon inside the charizard had imprinted a part of Lance's flame onto the beast. They had changed each other with their encounter, morphing into raw reflections of their former selves.

"Drakon, " he said, a rippling power undertoning his voice as he spoke in a forgotten language . He reached up, lovingly caressing the charizard's snout. "Fang is no name for a creature such as you."

Betherian snorted, breaking the tension between man and beast. She growled and electricity crackled between the horns on her head.

"Hush, Beth. 'tis not necessary." He turned and cast a scowl in the dragon's direction. Her reaction was the precise reason that he had not tamed another dragon for his own. She was possessive to the extreme, having driven off every other dragon Lance had attempted to train.

The charizard simply ignored her, more interested in the attention being lavished upon his new form. Every muscle rippled with power, his internal flame burning in a perfect facsimile of Lance's own.

Clair looked up from the hunk of wood that held her attention. She had been whittling away at the branch for hours, stealing glances at Lance every few minutes. "I told you she wouldn't like this, " she said. She turned her head to Betherian and smiled knowingly at the brooding dragon. "She's far too proud to share you, cousin. Even with a beast as magnificent as he."

Betherian growled a warning as Lance reached back up to marvel at the midnight beast. She took a step forward as she intoned her absolute last warning.

The charizard looked over at her lazily, a smug air of superiority in the way he held himself. He yawned, making a point to show every one of his jagged teeth to the orange dragon.

Lance's dragonite snarled fiercely and launched herself at the charizard, using her wings to propel herself forward. He met her charge fiercely, with a flash of claw meeting hers.

Lance dove out of the way, rolling under Betherian's charge. He came to his feet yelling, the dragon inside him roaring alongside him. "Enough!" he boomed.

The dragons separated with a reluctant exchange of growls. They turned to face their master, cowed into place with sheer force of the dragon tamer's will.

"You are dragons, not mindless beasts!" he raved incredulously. "The both of you will cease this at once. You will embarrass the lot of us."

Clair snickered from her dragonair's side. "Listen to the mighty champion. Watch his mighty beasts argue over him. Does it not inspire awe?"

He turned and scowled in her direction, cutting off her wit before she could continue her barrage of words. "Hold your tongue, cousin." He turned away without bothering to wait for an answer, looking back up to his dragons.

Betherian hung her head and cooed at him. She lowered her snout towards him and nudged him in the chest.

He reached up and smiled. "Hush, Beth. I'm always yours."

She cooed again happily and shot a look over at the charizard. He snorted in derision and yawned again.

Lance looked up at her and frowned. "There will be no more of this. He is one of us now."

She nodded in understanding and raised herself to her full height. He couldn't help but grin in awe at his dragonite, marvelling at her brilliant coat of orange scales.

"Drakon, " he said again, turning to look at the charizard. The word seemed to reverberate between them, draconic energy surging through their bond. He smiled softly. "Drakon, " he said, uttering the beast's new name with the same inhuman energy.

The charizard snarled a soft response, staring deep into Lance's eyes. It blew a puff of acrid black smoke at him and growled happily at the acknowledgement of his new name.

He spun suddenly, turning and striding towards Clair. "I have him, " he said calmly. "We can return to Indigo."

She regarded the charizard cautiously. "You sure he's under control? He was Oak's charizard not a half a week ago."

"Yet, look at him now. He is a dragon in truth. Like us."

Her eyes narrowed as she searched Lance's stoic mask for an opening. "Very well, " she stated after a painfully long silent moment. "on your head be it."

Lance turned back to his dragons. "It most certainly will not be." He gazed up in reverence and couldn't help the awestruck grin come to his face. "We are dragons after all."

* * *

The tent flap flung open, allowing the frigid bite of the mountain winds to rush through the command tent. One of the guards stepped inside, pulling his face wrappings down to announce the visitor. "Lord Gold, the Fuchsian is here."

He looked away from the Lord Envoy with a look of silent gratitude. He looked back at the Lord Envoy and scowled. "I will discuss your concerns with the King upon his return, " Lord Gold stated with plain annoyance creeping into his tone. The Lord Envoy had been a constant pain since their departure of Indigo. "However, his orders were made abundantly clear. We are to provide safe passage to Johto for any of the smallfolk who wish to join our cause."

The portly man seemed to shake with anger. He shook a meaty fist at Lord Gold as he frothed angrily. "The Elder Council shall hear of Goldenrod's deceitful behaviour. You pledged your support to Blackthorn in exchange for our protection against the seaborn. Do not forget your promises, Lord Gold, lest we forget our own."

He bit back the furious response and calmed his twitching sword hand. "I made no promises to the Elder Council, " he stated plainly. "My support was pledged to Lance himself."

The Lord Envoy seemed to lean in, enjoying the rise he had gotten from the Johtan noble. "Then we shall pray to the gods for his good health!" he said with a sneer.

Queen Mira's head snapped up from the oversized map that covered the table in the centre of the tent. She narrowed her eyes at the implied threat, but otherwise remained silent.

Lord Gold simply shook his head and pointed to the entrance to the command tent. "I will hear no more of this, " he said, his calm demeanour returning. "We will speak with the King upon his return. I'm sure he will hear all of your complaints as diligently as I have."

The Lord Envoy glanced back over his shoulder at the waiting congregation. He turned back to look at Lord Gold and bowed deeply. "I shall leave you to the tending of your herd, Lord-Shepherd." He spun on his heels, not waiting to dignify Lord Gold's angry outburst with another response of his own.

The fuchsian delegation filed in as the Lord Envoy finally departed. Lord Gold sighed and attempted to massage away his growing headache. He looked up at the lead shinobi and frowned at his hooded face. "Can I help you, Master Koga?"

The shinobi bowed deeply in a sign of respect. "No. I have merely come to bid my farewell. My spies have sent word that the Kingsmeet has concluded and ended in a stalemate. I must return home before my absence is noted."

Lord Gold nodded and bowed his own head in respect. "Understandable. I'm sure the Kantoans would be out for blood if they knew of your actions."

"You've no idea the danger that I've placed my family in. Half of my banners would revolt at the mere thought of allying ourselves with a Johtan." He sighed deeply and shook his head in frustration. "I've cast my die, and now it lies among yours. Until we meet again, your lordship."

"As well to you, Master Shinobi."

Queen Mira stood from her place at the war table, anger forgotten with the Lord Envoy's departure. "I must thank you on behalf of my husband. Your assistance has been invaluable."

"Doubtless, you'd have won the battle without our aid. Kanto's final hope was that Agatha could turn the tide of the battle by herself." He smirked, and Mira felt a cold chill run down her spine at the sight of his poisonous smile. "Once she failed, the outcome was clear enough to anybody involved."

She shuddered imperceptibly, hoping that the shinobi would not notice the moment of weakness. He'd made it abundantly clear that his betrayal of Kanto was only in service of his own survival. "We welcome the prospect of continued cooperation with Fuchsia, " she started in a flat tone. "The coming war will test all of us."

"Indeed it shall, " he replied curtly. He bowed his head in respect and turned to leave. The rest of his delegation filed out in silence.

Mira's face remained a stoic mask as she watched the shinobi leave. Only when the fuchsians had moved out of earshot did she dare to break the silence. "I don't like him."

"I don't trust him, " Lord Gold replied curtly. "Had Agatha's final gambit worked, he would have just as quickly remained loyal. His only loyalty is to his own people."

Mira shuddered at the mention of the ghost army. She had been in the city streets when the the wrath of the dead descended on Indigo. Thousands had fallen to Agatha's horde, halving the numbers of the Johtan army. The Kantoans had been slaughtered almost to a man, both by the dead and the Johtans themselves. She had survived only at great and terrible cost.

"Regardless, " Lord Gold continued, breaking the trance that had come over her. "he is our ally now. It will do no good to doubt his conviction. As he said, his die is cast with ours. It would be impossible to change that after what he did."

"You're just bitter that he denied you the glory of your duel."

Lord Gold nodded and Mira caught the sly grin that he flashed at her. "Aye. Oak was mine. I had him beat. Another minute or so and he would have yielded." He shook his head in frustration. "He would have made an excellent bargaining chip for Viridian's loyalty. Could've saved Lance the trouble of running off to sack yet another city."

Mira couldn't help but stew at the offhanded criticism of her husband. "Do not forget your place, Lord Gold. He is your king."

He bowed his head, quick to appease the Queen. "I mean no offense, My Lady. I only mean to suggest that had the Lord of Viridian remained alive, it would have spared the city from a direct siege." He crossed the room and leaned over the massive map. "Kanto will be a stubborn apricorn to crack, no doubt about it. But Viridian and Pewter are the backbone of their defense. If they fall, Kanto's core cities don't stand a chance."

She stayed silent, staring at the map with a cold glare. Silence filled the room for an agonizingly long moment as Lord Gold continued to ponder the map before them. "Is this war wise?" she asked suddenly.

He looked up and raised an eyebrow at her. "War is never wise, My Lady. It is sometimes necessary though."

"Then I suppose I should rephrase the question. Is this war necessary?"

He held a single finger up to his lips, hushing her before she could continue. He crossed the tent again and dismissed the guards at the entrance with a curt nod. The tent flap closed as Lord Gold watched them go with a patient eye. Only when they had moved out of earshot did he turn to face the Queen again. "I would advise you to keep questions like that away from prying ears. A war camp is no place for them."

"You did not answer me, " she said with a hard strength in her voice. "Is this war necessary?"

He sighed heavily and crossed the tent towards her. "It was necessary at first. The Ghost Queen butchered thousands of Johtans, slaughtering entire towns at the mere whisper of dissent."

"I do not need a history lesson. I know what she did. She took the birthright of the dragons and slaughtered-"

"No, " he interjected. "She won her throne through the right of conquest, just as the dragons did when they cast down the Oak Kings of old. She had no more birthright than any other, save for the strength of her legions of the dead."

Mira couldn't help but shoot him an incredulous look. "Careful, Lord Gold, you speak treason."

"Spare me the drivel spouted by the Elder Council. I'd rather honest words here. You never were one to swallow their miltank crap without a fight, so why use it on me?"

Silence reigned for a long moment as the two nobles regarded each other carefully. Not a word was spoken as they studied every crack in the other's visage.

Mira finally broke the silence, her next words carefully crafted to ease the tension. "I worry for our King. I worry for him losing himself in this unnecessary war. He has no desire to become an Emperor drenched in the blood of a nation."

Lord Gold nodded slowly. "Which he would no doubt become if he were to lead the Elders' bloody crusade for vengeance." He scowled and looked down at the map in frustration. "Am I to assume that you speak for the king in this matter?"

"We are of the same mind, " she replied. "He wishes an end to the bloodshed, one that does not result in Kanto drowning in a sea of its own blood."

He paused, contemplating her words. "Sacking Viridian won't bring an end to this. It'll only give Kanto a martyr."

Mira's back stiffened and she met his eyes with a grave look of her own. "Lance had thought to bring them to heel by force. To crush their will to fight by burning their greatest fortress before they could marshal their forces into place."

"It won't work, " he said quickly. "he thought wrong."

A dead silence fell on them as the full weight of responsibility bore down on Mira. "Then we have cast our die as well. Kanto must burn. Else we will be consumed by the fire that we lit."

Lord Gold clenched his fists, forcing himself not to unconsciously reach for the pommel of his blade. He had a very sudden urge to hit something very hard.

* * *

The Argent mountain range stretched from the coast deep into the wilderness of Northern Kanto. It divided Kanto and Johto, forming a nearly impenetrable barrier between the two. Only two treacherous mountain passes offered safe paths through the mountains, and the Kantoans had built a massive bridge fortress upon the southernmost pass.

Gold had to give the Kantoans credit for it. Tohjo Falls was undoubtedly one of the natural wonders of the world and they had built their own wonder atop it. All the runoff from half the Argents collected in a sparkling reservoir that sat half a dozen leagues above sea level. All that water poured over the edge of cliffs and pounded into a river at the base of the mountains.

The bridge fortress stood as a testament to humanity's ingenuity. The torrential downpour streamed past slick stone ramparts, providing a stunning backdrop to anyone who dared approach the bridge. The roar of rushing water filled the air, drowning out the sounds of the mountains.

"Blasted! Gods forsaken! Idiots!"

Each word was punctuated by another savage, unrestrained blow. The sparring dummy's arm cracked off and splinters flew as the Lord of Goldenrod unleashed his pent up frustration.

"You should fight like that more, Lord Gold. Kanto wouldn't stand a chance."

He turned and locked eyes with the woman gawking from the side of the training yard. He tossed the practice blade to the quartermaster and strode purposefully towards her. "Ready the men for a long march. We're leaving before the King returns from his bloody crusade. I want us half a dozen leagues into Johto before the dragon even knows we've left."

She scoffed at his order and playfully jabbed him in the shoulder. "Is that any way to speak to your sister?" she asked in a playful tone.

"Bastard, half-sister, " he corrected with a scowl. "Just because father spread his seed across half of Johto does not make you a Gold."

She wrinkled her nose at him and frowned. "You're no fun when you're all serious. I like the fun Ethan."

"He's busy right now, Kris." He sighed and rolled his eyes at her. "Go find your sellsword and rally the troops. Give no indication to anyone not from Goldenrod what you are doing."

She tapped her foot impatiently. "He's not a sellsword anymore. And he has a name."

"Just because your precious Silver sold his blade to me, does not make him any less of a sellsword."

Kris tossed her cobalt blue locks back over her shoulder and beamed at him with an impeccable smile. "You actually remember his name?" she asked.

Lord Gold cracked a grin. "How could I forget my baby sister's biggest mistake?"

She tossed back her head and laughed, a high and clear sound that was all too rare in recent days. "You'll warm up to him soon enough! He's such a perfect gentleman, and so very skilled at swordplay."

Lord Gold raised an eyebrow at the innuendo. "That's nothing I needed to know, Kris." He turned towards the encampment and ignored the bright shade of pink that flushed Kris' cheeks. "How long until the men can move?"

She slipped back into her serious tone as she fell in beside him. "Give me a few hours. I can have the men ready by sundown."

"I want them ready before that, " he replied curtly. "Lance will tear us apart if he catches us in the open. We need to put as much distance as we can between us."

Kris shot him a shrew look. "Will it really come to war? You said that Lance opposed pushing further into Kanto."

He shook his head. "That was before I learned that he left to sack Viridian himself. Clearly, he is more predisposed to an invasion than I had thought."

"But that means war?"

"Lance is a dragonkin. He is stubborn and prideful. Even if abandoning this invasion is what's best for Johto, he will never allow the insult of treason stain his honour." He took a deep breath to steel himself for the day to come. "The Elder Council will surely throw their full weight behind an attack on Goldenrod. Alone, we will not survive."

Kris nodded solemnly. "Then I shall rally the troops."

"And I will gather what allies I can. Thank the gods that Lance is away. It makes talk of secession much more palatable."

"Where will you start?" she asked.

He wrinkled his forehead in concentration as he wracked his mind for a long moment. "Perhaps Lady Mikan. The Olive Coast harbours no love for Blackthorn."

Silence fell on the pair for a long moment. Only the dull roar of the waterfall filled the air. Kris cocked her head to the side with a worried look. "What if she says no?"

"Then we pray that Lance is in a merciful mood."

* * *

_Apologies for the shorter length. However, two of the intended scenes did not work as a chapter ending, so they've been moved to the next chapter. Cookies for anyone who guesses them!_


	7. Rebels and Traitors in our Midst

**Arc 2: A Broken Promise**

**Rebels and Traitors in our Midst**

_A side must be taken. A stand must be made._

* * *

Lord Gold had never been one for grand shows of splendor. Too often, gilded lies and hidden blades accompanied wealthy shows of extravagance. He harboured an envy for the Kantoans. At least they had the luxury of knowing exactly who their enemies were. Johtans, he had decided, were all too fond of pledging their false loyalty while secretly sharpening their knives.

He crossed his arms in a vain attempt to ward off the cold. He would never be rid of these frigid mountains soon enough. He missed the balmy climate of the Gold Coast, and the warm hearth waiting for him back in Goldenrod. With a shake of his head, he cast away the marauding thoughts of home. It would do him no good to lose focus at a time like this.

The guardsman nodded at him finally, and opened the flap to Lady Mikan's tent. "The Duchess is ready for you now," he said in a rough, gravelly tone.

Lord Gold stepped into the tent and had to stop his jaw from dropping. The tent was easily twice the size of his command tent, and incalculably more garish. Attendants rushed to and fro, waiting on the Duchess hand and foot. A half-dozen advisors stood around the Lady herself, a reasonable recreation of her court in Olivine. "Lady Mikan," he started.

One of her advisors, a burly man in ragged and dented armour shot him a sour look. "You will address the Lady by her proper title, Lord Gold."

It took Gold a moment to place the man's identity. He was clearly out of place in the garish court and relished the appearance of a proper foe. "My apologies Lord Charles, I meant no offence." He bowed his head in respect and began again. "Greetings, Duchess Jasmine Mikan, Divine ruler of the Olive Coast and the Colony of Cianwood. I have come bearing grave tidings and require your urgent private counsel."

The Duchess looked up from her attendants, meeting Gold's eyes with her own. She studied him for a moment, waiting for a clue as to his purpose. She smirked, and looked down at the burly man. "Clear the tent, Chuck."

He bowed deeply, taking Lord Gold by surprise with his clear devotion. "At once, Duchess." He turned and bellowed an angry command, ushering the attendants from the room with single-minded focus. The court slowly filed out behind the attendants, only pausing to bid their farewells to the Duchess as they went.

Only when the massive tent had completely emptied and silence filled the space did Lord Gold dare approach the Duchess' throne. "I see you spared no expense for the march. How much did bringing half your court along cost?"

"A pittance compared to the wealth that Olivine commands." She rose from her throne and waved for him to follow her towards the refreshments that her attendants had prepared for her. "I suppose that Goldenrod has fallen on tougher times as of late? I can only assume so judging by the state of your accomodations."

He couldn't help but silently seethe at the woman's snide remarks as she poured herself a sizable mug of tea. "We simply have higher priorities to spend our wealth on."

She turned and narrowed her soft brown eyes at him. She lifted the kettle that had been prepared for her and held it out to him. "Tea?" she asked. "I find it helps sharpen my mind."

He nodded in thanks and lifted a second mug from the table. "I take it that you understand this is not just a social visit?"

"I did clear the room, did I not?"

He smirked at her reply. "As astute as ever." He paused for a moment, hesitating on his words. "What do you think of Lance's rule thus far?"

She frowned and sipped at her tea before deigning to answer him. "I think he has done an admirable job of prolonging what was to be a short campaign."

"My thoughts exactly," replied Lord Gold. "He promised us an end to these bloody wars of conquest. Yet, he has given Kanto a martyr to rally around. Viridian will be a bloody icon calling all of Kanto to avenge her."

"So, what is it that you propose? Offer him up to the Kantoans in exchange for peace? They'll lop his head off and then ask for yours to go with it." She shook her head. "Treason is a dangerous path to walk, Lord Gold."

He placed his tea back on the table, glaring at her with a stone-cold stare. "No more dangerous than a bloody crusade through Kanto. And much less costly if I have you at my back."

She remained quiet as she stared into the fire at the centre of her tent, considering his proposal for a long moment. After what seemed like an eternity, she looked back up from the fire. "If I am to cast my die with you, I would want something in return."

"What would that be?" he asked.

She shot him a savage smile and Gold could see the cunning behind her deceptively soft eyes. "I want my independence. I want to be free from the yoke of a cruel ruler half a continent away. I want my own bloody crown with all the jewels I can cram onto it. No longer will Olivine submit to the dragons, not when their greatest tamer lives as an outcast amongst his kind. We will be our own people, with our own Queen!"

Gold smiled at her with a flash of his teeth. "Then we march west at dawn?"

"Indeed we will." She turned away from him, abandoning her tea as she filed back towards her throne. "I expect my own crown, Lord Gold. Do not disappoint."

He bowed his head in respect as she took her throne. "Goldenrod thanks you for your support, as do I. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a monumental task ahead of me. I must beg my leave."

She nodded and looked lazily off towards the tent flap. "Send Chuck back in as you leave. He has work to do."

Lord Gold departed the tent without a further word, ushering the waiting Lord Charles back into the tent. The burly man shot him a knowing scowl, clearly disapproving of the treason that Gold had convinced his lady to support. No doubt, he would do his best to convince her of the danger in Gold's path.

His mind raced as he stalked through the encampment, running through odds of the duchess keeping her word. He didn't trust her, though he trusted that she would keep her word. Naked ambition worked far better than fear if those ambitions could be harnessed for his own purposes. The duchess was nothing if not ambitious and anyone with even a rudimentary grasp of court intrigue would have been able to seize on that.

He greeted his tent guards with a grim nod as he approached. The hard stare told him that his guests must have arrived.

"M'Lord, your guests have arrived."

He nodded in thanks and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Were any of them followed?"

The guard responded with a curt shake of his head. "None, all arrived alone and in disguise as you requested."

Lord Gold hesitated for a short moment at the flap of the tent. He looked over at the guard, who simply smiled at his liege lord. He couldn't help but to be jealous of the man, oblivious as he was to the coming storm. Perhaps it would have been simpler had he been born a bastard. It would have excused him from the burden of the throne, and given him an excuse to leave the hard decisions to those more qualified than him.

"My thanks, " he said. "Nobody is to disturb us until I inform you otherwise."

He nodded and pulled the flap of the tent open for Lord Gold. "As you wish, your lordship."

He stepped inside and cast a quick glance at the congregation that had been gathered to meet with him. He strode purposefully across the room, towards the map that dominated the massive wooden table. With a flash of his blade the wooden figures representing the Kantoans tumbled from their place in Viridian. He lifted the wooden dragon, admiring the intricately carved details.

Slowly and purposefully, he set the dragon down on Viridian and looked up at his guests with a grim scowl. "We stand witness to the birth of a new tyrant. One of our own making. We fanned the flames of war until the inferno spat out a bloody conquerer for us to worship." He locked eyes with the man across from him, the Lord Protector of Cherrygrove, and spoke with a calm dread. "Our worst fears have been realized. Lance has been tainted by his battle with the Queen. He left the host to raze Viridian."

A cold silence filled the air as his guests absorbed the enormity of his statement. They had joined for the same reasons he had. The last true dragon, an outcast among his own kind, had begged them for one last war in the name of lasting peace. They'd been utter fools to believe him, and paid the price for their ignorance.

The room remained deathly silent. Only the cold howl of the wind off the peaks, and the dull roar of a war camp preparing for a march was audible.

Lord Gold leaned over the map and scowled at the dragon in Viridian. When he finally broke the silence that had befallen the room, all eyes were trained on him. "Blackthorn mocks us all. They held their strength back, only sending a pittance to maintain the appearance of support. Thousands of Johtans gave their lives to end the oppression of a foreign monarch, and yet who amongst us stood to gain the most?"

The Lord Protector of Cherrygrove answered his question in a quiet voice. "Blackthorn does. They stand to regain the throne that they lost a century ago."

"Thank you, Lord Protector Elm, " Lord Gold replied with a nod. "They held their strength back, waiting for us to spend ourselves on the Kantoans and their blasted Queen. Why would they do that? What are they waiting for?"

"They pushed for this war harder than anyone, " Lord Falkner interjected. "why would they do that just to hold their troops back?"

Lord Gold seized upon the opening that the question gave him, a sparkle of inspiration in his eyes. "Indeed, " he started. "why would they do that? Unless they had another foe to reserve their strength for?"

The room burst into loud, incoherent shouting under the weight of Lord Gold's insinuation. Accusations flew and incredulous stares crisscrossed the room.

Lord Gold raised his hand, quieting the rancour and vitriol flinging across the hastily gathered nobles. All eyes turned to him as he drew his dagger with a confident smirk. "I say that we are true Johtans. Let us cast off the chains of the past and forge our own future, without the need for any bloody dragons." he plunged the dagger into the map, skewering Blackthorn's sigil. "Let us abandon this bloody crusade, let Lance dash himself upon the blades of the Kantoans. We are Johtan. We will stand strong if we stand together."

The gathered nobles were silent for an uncomfortably long minute, instilling a moment of fear into the would-be rebel.

"Aye, " stated Lord Falkner. "Violet stands with you."

"As does Cherrygrove and New Bark."

"And Azalea."

"And Mahogany."

"Ecruteak as well."

Lord Gold nodded in respect and let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "I thank you for your commitment, dear friends. We march west at dawn. Prepare your men. Lance and Blackthorn will move quickly once our treachery is discovered."

* * *

"I once told your brother that I'd sooner try to run him through with a wooden spoon than fight a bloody dragon. Is he actually insane?"

Kris shrugged and pecked the sellsword on the cheek. "He may well be, though that is not the point. Besides, he is not why I'm spending the evening in your company."

He sighed and looked out over the mountain lake. "No, that would just be the impending bloodbath that is waiting for us in the morning."

She sat back and frowned at him. "Must you insist on ruining one last sweet moment?"

He paused, watching the moon rise over the lake. Its wavy reflection bathed the snow-capped peaks in pale silver light. "I suppose so, " he started. "Never too late to do the right thing, even if it's hard."

She scrambled to her feet and rounded on him with a look of alarm. "What do you mean by that? Have we been deceived?"

He sighed and leaned back against the rock they had been sitting against. "I had been hoping that you'd have been smart enough to figure it out yourselves."

She went for her blade, one hand dropping to her belt at the same time. She never even got the chance. A blur of muscle slammed into her, sweeping her off her feet and pinning her to a rock. She grunted in pain, glaring at the feraligatr that had her pinned.

"This is for your own safety. Your brother doesn't understand, he never will. He thinks that people are just going to blindly follow him!" He stood up, straightening his hauberk and stretching his legs. "That may work on the other nobles, but they're self-serving fools. Mercenaries don't care about who they follow, only that they're paid."

She turned her head to look at him, restrained fire burning in her eyes. "And you think that the Elders will pay you? They're a bunch of destitute fossils! They have no money of their own!"

He smirked at her, enjoying the rise he was getting from her. "Use your brain, " he gloated. "What could they possibly have promised us?"

She paused, considering the simplest answer. Surely, their plot couldn't have been so simple. She looked back up at him as realization dawned on her face.

"Ah, yes. It seems as though you've figured it out." He tapped his feraligatr on the shoulder and stepped back as the beast released Kris from his grasp. "Every single drop of treasure in Kanto is to be ours. Blackthorn bought the invasion without spending a single drop of gold."

She coughed and doubled over, clutching at her chest. She forced herself up to her feet and took a shaky step towards the sellsword. "You'll pay for this, " she started as her hand dropped towards her sword. "Ethan will-" she stopped and glanced down at her empty sheath.

A lithe black shadow stepped out from behind him and dropped her blade at his feet. A trio of balls clattered off the stone and rolled to a stop with her sword. "Like I said, this is for your own safety. Call it my price for selling out Johto's newest revolutionary." He dropped to one knee and retrieved the little sneasel's prize. "You won't be needing these, " he said as he tucked the items away in his pack. "You'll stay down here, out of sight until your brother is dealt with." He raised his arm and recalled the feraligatr with a single smooth movement.

She calmed the raging inferno that burned in her mind. Slowly and deliberately, she sat down against the rocks, crossing her legs and staring her former lover in the eyes. She remained silent, letting the expression of utter disgust on her face speak for her.

He cocked his head to the side, never taking his eyes off her. "Watch her, and keep her alive, " he ordered. "but if she tries to escape, kill her."

The ice demon snarled happily and melted into the shadows cast by the moon. Its shrill chittering echoed in the dark, the sound bouncing around the lakefront like a ghostly echo.

Kris closed her eyes, fury rising as she listened to the mocking cry of the sneasel. She sat emotionlessly still, waiting for the sellsword to leave. Only when his footsteps had long since turned away and faded off into the distance did she dare to open her eyes.

Hours had passed. The night had well and truly begun. The moon shone high in the sky, bathing the lake in silver light. Kris snorted to herself at the irony and unfolded her legs. "What kind of a bloody name is Silver anyway?" She rose to her feet and scanned the shadows for her captor. "Where are you, little demon?"

Blood red eyes peered out at her from the shadows. Slowly, the demon grinned and revealed a set of razor sharp teeth. She peered into the dark, vaguely making out the shape of the demon's body perched upon a shaded rock outcropping from the side of the cliff.

Kris slowly bent down on one knee, breathing deeply in a vain attempt to calm her racing mind. Half-baked escape plans tumbled through her scattered thoughts, dying on the claws of the sneasel like she surely would in any escape attempt. A flicker of movement from the lake snapped her out of the endless spiral. Water rippled out from a place in the centre of the lake, disturbed by something under the surface.

She fumed silently, furious at herself for not listening to Ethan's repeated warnings. Of course the sellsword had only been interested in her because of her proximity to Ethan. Like an absolute fool, she had fallen for his honeyed words far too easily. He had even treated her life like she was some prized reward for betraying Goldenrod.

She stopped, glancing back at the lake as she prayed for a miracle. Silver had betrayed her, but still attempted to save her life. As disturbing as the notion was, she could use it against him. She slipped one of the rocks scattered around her into her hand and stood up to face the sneasel. "Alright, you overgrown icicle, let's dance."

It chittered at her and leapt off the rock, landing gracefully in the pale moonlight. Its claws extended and the beast raked them along the rocks menacingly.

Kris responded with a sneer of derision that would have made even Silver proud. "You think that was scary? I've seen meganium with more menace than that!" She took a cautious step back as she spoke, drawing another angry chitter from the sneasel. "You really think you're the hardest thing in these mountains don't you?" She turned and pitched the rock as hard as she could, praying that whatever ruled the lake wouldn't take kindly to her intrusion.

The sneasel leapt into action, darting towards her with blinding speed. She attempted to duck under the beast as it soared towards her, but was a half-step too slow. Icy cold claws buried into her shoulder, chilling her to the core. She fell back and rolled with the momentum, bucking wildly in a desperate attempt to escape the grasp of the demon.

With a spray of frozen blood, she bucked the sneasel off of her. He sailed over the shore and landed with a splash in the shallows. Kris scrambled to her feet and turned, one hand clamped over her wound. The sneasel splashed around angrily, righting himself with an angry hiss. He narrowed his eyes and chittered a low threatening warning.

Kris took a step back as the wake of something large moving under the water rushed towards the shore. The magnificent bronzed shell of an ancient blastoise broke the surface with a crash. The titan of the lake soared from the water, bellowing a fearsome cry that echoed from the small basin the lake sat in.

The sneasel glanced back just in time to duck out of the way of the blastoise. It darted to the side, barely escaping being crushed by the sudden attack. A wave of water roared out from the impact, swamping the sneasel and bowling him over. The blastoise roared and lowered the massive bone cannons that sat on its shoulders. Two blasts of water pummeled the sneasel further, knocking it further out into the lake where its mobility would be useless.

Kris didn't bother to wait for the battle to conclude. Her feet pounded down the precarious path that lead back to camp. More sounds of battle raged behind her, but she didn't dare look back. She had to warn her brother of the bloodbath waiting for him in the morning. She had to warn him before…

Her train of thought died as she clambered over the ridge that overlooked the warcamp. Fires raged throughout the camp, jumping from tent to tent with a primal hunger. Smoke billowed into the skies, obscuring the banners that still flew over the camp. She could make out columns of men desperately fighting the blaze, even as attackers leapt out at them from the inferno.

She dropped to her knees, letting out a cry of despair. She was too late. The bloodbath had already begun. She looked up at the plumes of smoke choking the mountain scenery and prayed to every god she knew that she hadn't doomed them all.

* * *

_OMG A CLIFFHANGER!_

_Hope everyone makes it out ok... Unless a certain dragon tamer decides to make his triumphant return..._

_As always, please drop a review or a pm and let me know what you thought of this chapter! _


	8. Two Kings of the West

**Arc 2: A Broken Promise**

**Two Kings of the West**

_Fire and blood. Face to face._

* * *

It seemed as if the very world had been lit on fire. Gold sucked in a breath of hot, sooty air and choked on the bitter, acrid taste. The roar of battle raged around him, men shouting and dying all around him. His ears rang and the shoulder of his shield arm ached with a fierce pain. An explosion rocked the world again, throwing dirt and debris through the air and showering his with a fresh layer of detritus. Lord Gold rolled onto his stomach, groaning in pain as he forced himself up to his feet.

They had been betrayed, but by who he could not say. Fires had erupted in the night, ripping through the camp with an absurd speed. Then the explosions had rocked the world, scattering the small guard he had managed to gather in response. Men had been blasted to pieces by the sudden attack, throwing Lord Gold's desperate response into chaos. He had been caught on the edge of an explosion, only saved by the fact that his guard had thrown themselves in front of him. The layer of blood caked on his face was a testament to their sacrifice that Lord Gold would not soon forget.

He forced himself a few steps away from the remains of his guard and tested his wounded shoulder. He grimaced and braced himself for what came next. He clamped his good hand over his upper arm and forced the shoulder back into its socket with a grunt of pain. His vision swam, but the Johtan ignored the burning pain in his shoulder. His men were routing without him, something that the ambush had clearly planned for. He had to stop the rout before the entire rebellion was lost.

He forged his way into the inferno ravaging Tohjo Falls, his good arm shielding his face from the flames as the blaze spread through their camp. Men rushed through the flames towards the sounds of battle raging on the western edge of the fortress. None paid him any heed in their hurry, the roar of the flames and clashing blades drowning out his ragged voice. So he forged onward, his skin parched and cracking from the violent heat.

Bodies littered the burning camp, charred nearly beyond recognition. Most wore scant few pieces of armour, clearly having been surprised by the sudden attack. He could see more bodies burning inside the torched tents. The gut-wrenching stench of burning flesh turned his stomach and he fought back the urge to vomit.

The nightmare never seemed to end. More tents and corpses lay throughout the camp, warriors fallen in ranks together. It seemed as though his men had begun to form a proper response by the time that the attack reached them, though they had met the same fate as his guard. He could only hope that they had managed to form an effective defense and he was not running towards a bloody massacre.

He stumbled through the ash and smoke, all sense of direction lost save for the battle raging on the western edge of the fortress. Movement was scarce in the darkness of the ruined camp, only a few scavengers beginning to pick their way through the remains. Every single step brought more death as he moved through the hellscape that had been their war camp not hours before.

Finally, the sweet sight of magnificent opulence rose from the flames. The Duchess' tent still stood tall over the inferno, the first friendly sight he had seen since the chaos had begun. He stumbled towards the tent with a single-minded determination, his hand clamped over the pommel of his blade. He passed dozens of bodies, Olivine and Goldenrod soldiers who had rallied and died in yet another desperate defence. Nondescript bodies were littered among his men, confirming what Lord Gold feared.

"Sellswords," he spat. "I should have known they would betray us." He fumed to himself as he soldiered on, his hand still nervously grasping the pommel of his blade. The fighting was growing closer and it would not do well for him to be taken by surprise.

He emerged from the ashen wastes to a scene of complete chaos. A rough line of men were holding at the mouth of the tent, defending it even as a bolt of lightning ripped a hole in their line. Another trio of soldiers stepped into the gap, plugging it before the sellswords could exploit the opening.

A steelix shone brilliantly in the light of the inferno, sweeping its tail along the ground and crushing an advancing column of men before they could close with the Duchess' tent. It roared and reared back as more flames leapt from tent to tent and threatened closer to its metal body. Gold spotted a charizard diving towards the steelix's skull and decided to make his move before the battle tipped away from them.

Lord Gold bolted for the tent, his muscles screaming in protest as he wrung them for every drop of strength they had. His shield arm dropped to his belt, releasing a pair of his pokemon as he ran.

"Thunder!" he roared, pointing up at the charizard.

His ampharos bounded forward, electricity arcing along her muscled tail. The ball at the end of his tail erupted with light as a bolt of lightning shot into the sky. The charizard shrieked in pain as it convulsed rapidly. It slammed haphazardly into the side of the steelix and slid down to the ground, its wings flailing uncontrollably.

Lord Gold didn't wait to watch the massive metal snake raise its bladed tail to deliver the killing blow. He drew his blade as he barrelled towards the rear of the sellswords pressing against Olivine's defence, praying that the sudden surprise of his attack would be enough to break the assault.

His typhlosion didn't wait for his command. Flames exploded from his back as he tucked into a roll, resembling a literal wheel of flames. The left flank of the sellswords erupted into frantic screams of pain as the fire type savaged their formation from behind. Half a dozen men fell to the rolling inferno's flaming claws and fangs before the sellswords took stock of their new attacker.

Lord Gold reached the rear of the formation just as one of the sellswords turned to face his typhlosion. He ran his blade clear through the man's chest, taking them both to the ground with the force of his charge. He abandoned the blade rather than waste time retrieving it, simply choosing to rip the sellsword's shortsword from his dying grasp. He forced himself up to one knee and hacked his stolen blade into the back of the closest knee he could find. The man fell back, shrieking in pain and reaching for his amputated limb. Lord Gold plunged his stolen blade into the man's chest, silencing him just as the rest of the sellswords rounded on him.

His ampharos leapt to his aid, swinging her powerful tail like a club at a sellsword as he raised his sword to dispatch the downed Johtan Lord. The man collapsed, gasping for air with his neck bent to the side at an impossible angle. Another bolt of lightning erupted from her tail, dropping half the formation into a twitching heap.

Lord Gold wearily forced himself up to his feet, panting at the effort as the remaining sellswords turned tail and ran rather than face their deaths at the hands of the new arrival. He planted his foot on the chest of the first sellsword he had attacked and wrenched his blade free of the man's chest.

Olivine's line parted and Lord Gold nearly wept for joy at the familiar face greeting him. "Lord Gold?" asked Lord Charles. His armour had collected several new dents to go along with the thin gash that traced down his jaw. "We feared that you'd been killed. These blasted mercenaries haven't given us an inch of space since the attacks began, and-"

"Where is Jasmine?" Lord Gold interrupted.

Charles motioned towards the steelix laying waste to another column of advancing sellswords. "She leads the defence. The enemy has massed in strength and cut us off from the rest of our forces."

Lord Gold wiped his blade free of blood with a cloth he produced from the pack on his hip. "Who else do we have?" He sheathed his blade and looked up at the steelix, mind already racing for the best course of action.

"Pryce, Falkner and Morty have managed to gather in the western courtyard. We were attempting to gather our citizens here before moving to join them, though we were cut off before we could make our move."

He grimaced and furrowed his brow. "No word yet from Cherrygrove or Azalea?" he asked.

"None," Lord Charles replied.

Lord Gold tested the shoulder of his shield arm hesitantly, wincing at the tender movement. He looked back up at the steelix and sighed. "We do this the hard way then. Take me to the Duchess. We move now." He tested his shoulder again and grunted at the discomfort. "And somebody get me a bloody shield!"

* * *

She slid down the rocky embankment, ignoring the winding path that led back along the ridge over the camp and through the main gates. She didn't have the luxury of time left to take the long path back to Tohjo Falls. People were dying in droves, all because of her stupidity. She had to get back and-

Her foot hit the inch-wide ledge she had aimed for with more force than she had expected. It crumbled underneath her weight, sending her tumbling down the last twenty feet of her descent in an uncontrolled fall. She hit the ground hard and rolled away from the bottom of the cliff, groaning and coughing.

She ignored the pain in her wounded shoulder and the new aches from her likely broken ribs, forcing herself back up to her feet before the pain could bring her to a halt. She sighed in relief, realizing she had landed inside the walls of the fortress. She started off into a ragged run despite the crippling pain, desperately making her way towards the battle she had seen raging from the ridge.

She crossed the flame ravaged camp like a ghost, silently picking her way through the carnage. No soul crossed her path until she found a wounded soldier grasping to life. He didn't last more than a minute after her arrival.

Still, she pushed onward, compelled forward by the depth of her mistake. Their entire army thrown into chaos, thousands killed because of her, and her brother possibly dead amidst all of it. It was enough to block any horror from her mind with the sheer enormity of her guilt.

She slowed for a moment, resting for a half-second. Her lungs burned from sucking down lungful after lungful of acrid, sooty air and her muscles screamed in protest. She reached up, cradling her injured shoulder for a precious moment.

"You should have just stayed with the sneasel. It would have been far simpler for you. I would have treated you with the utmost respect, as you deserve."

Kris' hand closed on a piece of debris, a splinter of burnt wood, and she cursed at herself for not retrieving a weapon before now. "How did you find me?"

Silver smirked as she turned to face him. His armour was splattered with gore and viscera, a grim reminder of the battle at hand. His blade stood bare and outstretched, hungry for another victim. She could only count her lucky stars that none of his pokemon appeared to be with him for the moment. "You are not hard to track, my dear. Did you really think that you could escape?"

"Yes," she retorted. She raised her makeshift weapon with all the strength she could muster and planted her feet. "Guess I'll just have to fight my way out."

"Poor choice," he answered.

He moved faster than Kris had anticipated, closing to striking distance in the blink of an eye. Kris swung her weapon with all the force she could muster, aiming at his midsection. He got his blade in the way of the clumsy swing with deft ease. With a quick twist of his blade, he wrenched the club from her hands and bashed his shoulder into her jaw with the same movement. She stumbled back as she clutched at her jaw.

Silver took a step back, lazily pulling the makeshift club off of his blade. "You can still surrender to me," he stated calmly. "I would still accept that." He took a step closer to her, raising his free hand to offer it to her.

Kris shook her head, trying to clear her mind. She was still reeling from the blow to her jaw and her vision swam dangerously. "You know my answer, bastard."

He lowered his hand abruptly. "We are both bastards, Kristal. I had thought that you might see things in a new light after-"

"After what?" She exclaimed. "After you scoured Johto clean of any who might oppose Blackthorn's rule? After we threw ourselves upon Kanto's waiting blades for you?" She opened her eyes, staring directly into his hard grey eyes. "We have spent too long as pawns. We will no longer play this sick game."

He sighed and shook his head. The tip of his blade wavered and finally lowered after an uncomfortably long silence. "If we but had that choice," he said quietly. "There is much that you do not understand." He took a step in closer to her, cautiously lowering his blade. "Please, I beg that you allow me to protect-"

Her fist slammed into his throat at the same time as her knee slammed into his groin. He retched and coughed violently as he doubled over in surprise. Kris smashed her knee into his falling face, splattering herself in a spray of blood. She stepped back and steadied herself on the burnt out husk of a tent. "Can't protect shit," she muttered. She dropped to one knee, relieving the sellsword of his blade and skimming through his pack.

She cursed in silence, rummaging through bag for any sign of her pokemon. Her fingers closed around a lone, empty ball and she cursed one final time. Wherever Silver had hidden her pokemon, she had no time to find them. Too many people were dying for her to divert course to search for them. She didn't even have a guarantee that Silver hadn't killed them. She looked back at him and felt her fury swell. She tore his blade out of his unconscious hand, ready to end the despicable traitor's life.

A deafening roar cut her train of thought short. She turned, her eyes widening at the realization of what the sound meant. Without a second thought, she bounded off towards the fighting, leaving the unconscious sellsword behind.

* * *

"Push forward!" Lord Gold shouted from the back of his steed. The rapidash whinnied a nervous cry and shied back from the line, nervous at the presence of so many armed men. "Give no quarter, for your enemy will show you no mercy!"

A ball of flame launched from beyond the Johtan formation. It arced down towards the centre of the formation, where the few citizens accompanying the army were huddled. The sellswords must have commandeered one of the fortress' catapults and turned it on the soldiers within.

"Eon!" Gold shouted.

His xatu shone with vibrant light as his powers sprung to life. The psychic bird thrummed with energy as he nudged the flaming missile just hard enough to force it wide of its intended target. It hit the ground harmlessly, spewing a plume of flames into the already burning camp.

Their gambit foiled, the sellswords harrying their formation broke and ran. They could not stand before the full, combined might of Johto, even as weakened as they currently were. The sellswords' best hope had been to strike under the cover of night, using confusion and surprise to spring their ambush. Without a decisive rout, the sellswords simply didn't have the numbers to win an outright slugging match like the Johtans could.

"Ha!" exclaimed the Duchess from her seat atop the massive steelix. "They flee the field!" The steelix lowered his head, allowing her to slip onto the ground beside Lord Gold. "We've won the day!"

Lord Gold shook his head and looked down at the Duchess with a grim bearing. "I fear not, my lady. I doubt that they would give up so easily."

"They are simple mercenaries. Bleed them enough and they will flee the field." She strode towards the head of the formation, Lord Charles standing at her side. "Have we cleared a path to the western courtyard?" she asked.

Lord Gold peered across the battlefield, looking past the fleeing sellswords. "It appears so," he began. "We seem to have caught the enemy in between our forces. They chose to retreat now rather than be cut off and slaughtered."

"A shame," the Duchess said with a savage grin. "Rusty would have enjoyed that."

"He'll get his chance. I doubt that we've seen the last of these bastards." Lord Gold raised himself in his saddle, scanning the battlefield for any remaining threats. With the sellswords in retreat, they'd have a chance to regroup with the rest of the Johtans and take stock of their situation. He raised his blade and pointed forward, raising his voice over the formation. "Move forward! Regroup with the rest of our men."

He couldn't help but surpress a satisfied grin. Perhaps they had fallen victim to a surprise attack, but it had been repulsed. Scores of fighting men had died, yet they had seemingly won the day. He could gripe about the casualties later. For now, they had all earned the right to enjoy their victory.

A terrible and savage roar echoed off the mountain peaks. A second, deeper roar echoed the first. The blood drained from Lord Gold's face as he realized the terrible danger that they were all in. Lance was back, and he had come for blood. He had believed himself strong enough to defy the dragon. The world was about to see if that was true.

* * *

The view from above was one that showed the true devastation. Entire swathes of the warcamp were naught but ashes. The remaining Johtans had gathered at the gates to the bridge, their banners proudly flying in defiance. Try as he might, he could not make out Blackthorn's sigil among them, nor his own personal sigil.

"Mira…" he muttered. He cocked his head to the side, glancing over his shoulder at Clair. "Something terrible has happened."

"Was it the stench of death that tipped you off? Or the plume of smoke from the ashes of our army?"

Lance shot her an angry glare, silencing her with a growl. He turned back to look down at the carnage, scanning the ruins of Tohjo Falls for any trace of his wife. The inferno in his chest raged at the impudence of the would-be rebels. The peons had clearly forgotten their place on their knees before him. He would show them the true power of the dragon, a power that the fools had clearly forgotten.

The might of the great dragon clans of old had long waned, brought low by centuries of infighting. The Elders of old inspired fear across the continent, forcing the other cities to pay tribute or face the might of an angry dragon. The respect that Blackthorn had commanded was shattered by Agatha when she cast down the last Dragon King, along with the invincible image that the Elders so desperately clung to. It was little wonder that the last vestiges of the Elders' grasp were crumbling away.

Clair shifted uncomfortably, chafing at the forced silence. She pulled herself closer to Lance in a vain attempt to calm the fury she could feel radiating off of him. "I'm sure she's-"

"She is," he replied in a cold, hard tone. "Else they all burn for it." He urged Betherian down, peering through the ash and smoke. Drakon circled high above, waiting for Lance to unleash him upon his unsuspecting foes.

"There!" Clair shouted, pointing down at Backthorn's command tent. The flames had mercifully spared it, and Blackthorn's few loyal men had flocked to his banner. They had cleared a small space around his tent and formed a defensive formation around it.

Betherian announced her arrival with a terrible shriek of raw emotion. She thudded into the ground in the centre of their formation and stretched her wings after the long flight. Lance and Clair slipped off the dragon's back, letting the beast gain her breath for a few moments.

Lance charged for the tent, his strides long and purposeful. His fists were clenched at his sides and his face was a mask of righteous fury. An uneasy silence filled the small clearing, an overwhelming aura of dread and fury befalling the guards.

A half dozen knights parted at the mouth of the tent, letting the Queen through. She wore a haggard expression on her face, with her long auburn hair pulled back into a tight bun. Her usual formal dress had been replaced by a suit of exquisitely gilded armour that was still marred by a half-dozen scars from the battle at Indigo. Relief washed over her features and she softened her expression. "Thank the gods," she muttered. "Your timing is as impeccable as ever."

He strode towards her with single-minded purpose, eyes locked on his wife. "I had worried you dead," He started. "We could see the smoke from leagues away." He grabbed her by the waist and moved to pull her into a crushing embrace.

She shook her head and Lance could see the frustration clear in her body language as he released her. She sighed imperceptibly and her fists tightened as he approached. "We have been betrayed while you were off playing at war, by those on both sides of this mess. We were lied to, and Johto has paid the price." She looked over her shoulder and waved the men forward.

A scuffle and a shout erupted from behind her, and the ranks of knights dragged the source forward. They roughly shoved the portly man before their champion, ignoring his cries of protest. He fell to his knees and looked up at Lance with a mixture of fear and awe.

"Lord Envoy," Lance began with a growl. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"You will release me at once!" he replied in a shrill tone. The man was sweating profusely in his presence, his eyes flitting back and forth between Lance, Clair and Mira. "I am the Lord Envoy of the Elder Council. You will release me from this unlawful imprisonment immediately or face the consequences."

Lance looked back up at Mira, ignoring the envoy's outburst. "What happened?"

Mira sighed and massaged her temples with a weary look on her face. "I'm not entirely sure. The other Johtans have turned their backs on us and seem to be making for the bridge back to Johto. What's more is it seems that the Elders were not entirely truthful with us."

Clair couldn't help but snicker at that. "Are they ever?" she asked.

The Lord Envoy spluttered incredulously even as Mira silenced him with a withering glare. She continued as she cowed the envoy into silence with the force of her glare. "They struck a bargain with the sellswords, to continue the war with an invasion of Kanto. It seems as though they had intended for you to lead us all into another bloody crusade." She glanced over at the envoy with clear disdain. "This one attempted to marshal our forces into place alongside the sellswords, in order to massacre the rest of the Johtans."

"On whose authority?" Lance asked.

"Yours," she replied.

Lance dropped to one knee, drawing even with the portly man. He narrowed his eyes and felt the embers of power inside him begin to stir. "What makes you think that you can speak for me?"

"I speak for the Eld-"

Lance climbed back to his feet, looking down on the envoy with an expression of righteous fury as his voice trailed off. "You were warned that the Council's voice has no power here, and yet you act with impunity. You have usurped my authority yet again. I am a merciful man, but even I have my limits."

The Lord Envoy raised his nose, looking up at Lance with his last vestiges of utter defiance. "You are a tool of the Council, as are all of Blackthorn's children. We live to serve their will and you will submit to-"

Lance moved like lightning. The dragon inside him roared in response to the Envoy's response as raw power flowed through him. His blade fell fast and true, finding its mark before anyone could move. The Lord Envoy toppled to the side, his head rolling away in the other direction. He sheathed the blade in one smooth motion as he turned to the men gathered around. "No, we will not submit to the will of the Elders. The Council is old, decrepit in their ways. They would plunge our people back into the dark ages in a vain attempt to regain their glory." He grabbed the Envoy's hair and lifted the severed head. "We will forge a new path, a new empire that is no longer beholden to the past."

Clair drew her blade, drawing closer to him with a grim visage. She lowered her head and dropped to one knee. "It is no easy task to choose a new path. We all swore our loyalty to Blackthorn, to the Council." She raised her head and locked eyes with her cousin. She lifted her blade, offering it out to him. "I have followed you into living hells, thrown myself into raging infernos for you. I will go anywhere you ask me."

As one, the men of Blackthorn drew their blades and dropped to one knee. They held their blades out in fealty to their new champion. Lance could feel the embers of power in the men flaring in response to his presence. They echoed the rage and call of his aura with their own internal flames. He closed his eyes, reveling in the power echoing back at him. It seemed to call to him, beckon him to seize upon the moment and take action.

He opened his eyes and looked up at the sky. "We end this rebellion now," he stated. "Before it can leave this fortress." He raised and hand and closed it into a fist. Drakon slammed into the ground behind him, bellowing a fearsome cry to announce his arrival. "Ride with me, friends!" Lance shouted. Betherian lowered herself to allow her tamer to leap atop her back. He unsheathed his blade and pointed towards their turncoat countrymen. "For a new Johto!"

* * *

The western courtyard was a chaotic throng of confused men and woman. Wounded littered the courtyard, searching for treatment or simply waiting for the inevitable. A loose circle of banners marked the command area, though it was clear to anyone that the army stood on the brink of a desperate rout.

Lord Gold slid off his rapidash, his heart pounding in his chest. A half-dozen retainers rushed to his sides, desperately fussing over his hopelessly bloodstained armour. He waved them away with barely concealed frustration as he rounded on the Johtan lords' impromptu council. "Get the men across the bridge, before Lance brings it down under us." He barged into the loose circle of nobles, his presence instantly known.

The Duchess shot her a look of annoyance at the interruption, but dropped any protest she might have had. She waved her assent as Lord Charles rushed to begin marshalling their troops across the bridge. "I do hope that we have a plan to deal with our dear champion? I doubt that he will simply allow us to leave."

Lord Gold had to suppress a grim frown. "I had planned on asking politely," he said in jest. "Though, Lance is not likely to agree to our withdrawal."

"Agreed," Morty stated, turning away from his retainers as they rushed to prepare his troops for a forced march. "We likely have minutes before the sellswords return. With Lance's presence, they'll have a clear advantage and likely attempt to press it."

Lord Gold nodded and turned to his fellow nobles. "Then get to work. Get as many people across the bridge as we can. Hold back enough soldiers to cover our retreat, at least until we can clear the bridge." He pointed at the elderly man clutching to a sturdy wooden cane. "You're with me, Lord Pryce. We will hold Lance back if he arrives in force."

The Duchess scoffed at that. "Do you really think that the two of you stand any chance against Lance?" She looked back and forth between the two of them, clearly unimpressed with their prospects. "The two of you hardly stand a chance. You'll need support."

"Aye," Morty agreed. "We will aid you as well."

Lord Falkner stepped up, glancing around the council. "As will I. We stand the best chance if we stand together."

The ground shook with the force of his beasts' landings. A pair of dragons, one unseen for a thousand generations, announced their arrival with devastating and savage intent. The courtyard erupted in panicked screams and desperate motion as the masses panicked and ran for the bridge.

Lance slipped off his dragonite with all the dignity and grace that could be mustered in the chaos. "Touching, that you think that your unity will make any difference."

Lord Gold stepped forward, taking charge. "Get everyone across the bridge!" he shouted over his shoulder. He turned back to look at Lance with a grim bearing. "We are leaving and you cannot stop us. Johto has no desire for another bloody tyrant trapped in the glory of a dead empire."

Lance's calm exterior showed no sign of faltering. He lifted his off-hand, raising the severed head clutched within. "I bring you the true villain of the day. Blackthorn's old guard hatched a plot to threaten the peace that I sought to create. They hired these sellswords for a campaign into Kanto, and when you threatened that campaign they acted as such." He tossed the severed head towards his former friend without breaking his calm demeanour. "There is your bloody tyrant, dead by my hand. Now lay down your blades, else I will be forced to act."

Lord Gold glanced down at the Lord Envoy's severed head in thinly veiled disgust. "Do you expect me to believe this?" He asked incredulously. "You raze Viridian to the ground, yet you have the gall to pass off this treachery to others? You speak of peace, yet you deal in war and conquest." He shook his head and drew his blade. The nobles behind him mimicked him, drawing their weapons as one. "A headless corpse will tell any story that a tyrant asks of it. This will not stand. Johto does not belong to the dragons. We are leaving, and you will not stand in our way."

Lance sighed. He shook his head as his calm expression morphed into a frustrated frown. "So be it," he stated calmly. He drew his blade with a flourish, reaching out to the dragons that flanked him. "I will do what I must. For the good of all Johto."

Lord Gold nodded in solemn agreement. "As will we. For Johto!"

* * *

_Well... I'm back. It's been a long while. I apologize for the long wait, however it isn't without reason. With this new chapter, I also have an announcement of a more serious matter. I was officially diagnosed with schizophrenia after a particularly dangerous and scary episode. I'm in a little bit better of a place now, but only after accepting my new reality and seeking real help. To anyone suffering in silence from mental health issues of any kind, please seek help. Things don't just get better on their own._

_So, enough about my bullshit! As always, please leave me a review or drop me a pm to let me know how you felt about this chapter, or the story as a whole. _


	9. Reckoning

**Arc 2: A Broken Promise**

**Reckoning**

_The walls come crashing down._

* * *

The column of dragon knights marched through the dead fortress, forging their way towards their champion. Lance had left them behind in his bloodlust, left them to traipse through the ashen streets alone. The formation rounded a bend in the soot-soaked road and entered a narrower section of the fortress. The walls of a half dozen barracks loomed over the column and cast them in darkness. Only the light cast by Mira's rapidash lent any light to the foreboding darkness.

"Company, halt!" Mira commanded, her voice carrying over the din of battle. Still, she could hear the terrible rage of the dragons at the bridge as Lance fought alone against the might of Johto. She pulled back on the reigns, bringing her rapidash to a halt at the head of the formation. Her hand dropped to her belt, resting nervously on the pommel of her blade. "Lay down your weapon," She ordered in a calm, yet demanding tone.

The man blocking their path slowly lowered his hand to his waist and unbuckled his scabbard. He dropped his weapon and looked up at Mira with a knowing smile. "I've been waiting for your arrival," he started. His form seemed to melt into the darkness, shifting and flickering in the light of her rapidash.

Clair sidled up beside her, staring down at the man blocking their way. Her dragonair snorted a puff of smoke and growled a warning. "Sellsword," she remarked. "Keep your guard up."

The man bowed his head in respect, never breaking eye contact with Mira. "I'm afraid that we have made a poor first impression," He called. Mira could feel the force and intensity in his voice, lending the man an undeniable aura of strength. "I am Captain Sakai."

"I know who you are," Mira interjected. "You're a monster."

He smiled, a sight that sent a chill down Mira's spine. He had an aura of overwhelming dread to his every word, transforming what could have been a charming smile into a chilling omen of death. "Then my reputation precedes me." He turned his head to the side and Mira caught a glimpse of movement from the shadows. "Jesse, James, bring the captives."

A pair of shadowed figures emerged from the darkness between two of the barracks. Each carried a limp figure over their shoulders, bound and gagged for easy transport. The man dropped his captive without a word.

"Thank you," Captain Sakai said as the woman deposited her captive on the ground beside him. He lifted up one of the prisoners, showing his beaten and bruised face to the light. "I give to you the Lord Protector of Cherrygrove, Robert Elm." He motioned to the limp figure still laying in the dirt and smiled menacingly at Mira. "And Master Shinobi, Bugsy Tsukushi of Azalea. Both were captured by my men in separate ambushes. Now, I give them willingly to your custody in the name of continued cooperation."

Mira grimaced at the bloody, bruised face of a man she had once been close to. Elm was a good and honourable man. He hadn't deserved the beating he had clearly received from the sellswords. "And their men?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

Captain Sakai's smile faded slightly and she could feel his annoyance at the question. "Unfortunately, they fought to the last man. They refused to lay down their weapons to save their lives."

Clair leaned in towards Mira, her voice hushed. "I doubt they gave them a chance to surrender. I've seen Sakai's handiwork too often. They don't leave survivors."

Captain Sakai interrupted with a loud cough to clear his throat. "I assure you, every effort was made to spare lives. We are sellswords, not barbarians."

The man behind him looked up, a twinkle in his eye. "Every man who surrenders is another we can ransom back to their liege. More survivors means more prof-"

"Quite enough, James," Sakai said curtly. He turned his head to glare at the man, cowing his initial retort into silence. "You will not speak out of turn again."

Mira looked up at him with a scowl of derision. She had to strain her ears to catch the sound of his voice, yet he had effortlessly picked out a whisper over the raging battle. It was unnatural to say the least and more than enough to give her pause about allying with the Captain. "We require an assurance that you truly wish to fight on our side. That you are not loyal to Blackthorn's Elder Council."

He adjusted his stance and narrowed his eyes. "We stand here with naught but empty promises from the Council. I see no Kantoan gold to be stolen, nor any riches to plunder for my own. The Council has not fulfilled their end of the bargain and thus they have voided the contract."

"I offer no riches sellsword, merely your lives and a place in something greater than yourselves."

She felt a chill run down her spine as he returned her cold stare with a calm, exacting grace. "Then I shall stand at your side as a part of something." He motioned over his shoulder, towards the battle in the courtyard. "To battle then?"

She nodded curtly and he turned away from her. He raised a fist and calmly took a step back. Ranks of men filed from the darkness between the barracks as silent as a ghost. Dozens formed a phalanx with practiced ease, more still forming up behind them.

"Gods," Mira muttered. "They were hiding in wait. It's as if he meant to ambush us if we refused."

Clair frowned at the backs of the advancing mercenaries, eyes flitting up to the rooftops of the barracks. "More up high," she remarked. "They would have had us completely at their mercy." Mira caught the dragon tamer shudder out of the corner of her eye, a reaction that Mira did not take lightly. Something about that man had spooked even the blood of the dragon. "I don't like this. He isn't to be trusted."

"I will speak with my husband," Mira replied without taking her eyes off Sakai. "However, there is little we can do at the moment. The other Johtans outnumber us ten to one. I will not drive away willing combatants when we are hard pressed for numbers."

"Take care, your grace. In dealing with the devil, one often becomes one in turn."

Mira nodded her thanks to the advice, still carefully watching Captain Sakai. She couldn't be sure, but more than once she thought she felt the man's cold gaze fall on her. He turned his head, catching her gaze for a breath. Mira thought she saw a ghost of a grin cross his face before he turned back to his men.

She raised her fist and cast it forward. The men responded in silence, heeding her order without question. She cast her discomfort away without a further thought and steeled herself for the coming bloodbath.

* * *

It was bloody chaos. Men were down, trampled by their own in the army's mad rush for escape. Hundreds, possibly thousands lay bleeding and broken in their comrades' wake. The bridge itself was a boiling mass of screaming humanity, all desperately pushing forward in a vain attempt to escape the raging dragonlord at their heels.

Kris could have wept at the sight of her brother if it had not been for the foe he was fighting. Lance and his beasts loomed above the battle like a vengeful archangel, heralds of unrivalled death and destruction in their very presence. The broken bodies of the dragon's foes lay in unrecognizable carcasses around the courtyard. Lance opened his mouth, his voice booming over the battle in an inhuman tongue.

She broke into a run, roused from her stupor by the deafening power of the dragon's voice. She dashed past a puddle of molten metal, the remnants of the Duchess' forrtress, making for the bridge. She leapt over the mangled corpse of her brother's rapidash, sparing a mournful glance for the loyal steed's remains. Even as she ran, she watched the charcoal-blackened charizard finally corner the Duchess' scizor. The lithe little bug screeched a hoarse metallic cry of pain as it burned in azure flames.

She pounded past the battle, barely sparing a glance for her countrymen. Ethan had made his choice to stand and fight, giving them all a few precious moments to run. She would not waste his choice with reckless bravery, not when Johto's nobles stood and fought at his side to give them a ghost of a chance.

The skies writhed with streams of flame and torrents of lightning. The heavens themselves opened up, spewing spears of molten light from a thousand raging storm clouds. The dragons shrugged off the bolts as if they were nothing, striking back at their attackers with fang, flame and claw.

Still, she ran. Past the burning, broken remnants of the fortress. Past the ranks of sellswords and dragon knights marching into the square. Past the stoic honour guard that held the ruined gatehouse to the bridge in spite of their impending doom. She ran until the air tore at her lungs, hot and humid air that was rank with the stench of death and choked with plumes of smoke. She paused for a moment, helping an unlucky guardsman that had been trampled by the rest of the army back to his feet.

The ground shook with the force of a titanic impact and a new, deeper roar challenged the dragons' dominance. She gasped as she turned and sighted the monstrosity drawing to his full height. Twenty feet of armoured terror stretched back and roared a terrible and savage cry. She felt the ground shake beneath her feet and prayed that the bridge would hold.

* * *

The dead lay in tattered heaps around Johto's nobility. Broken corpses and shredded bodies warned of the fate any who dared resist. Despite the dead, they fought. They fought and died one by one, more and more of their number falling to the blasted dragons that rampaged through the ruined courtyard. The inticate patterns of cobblestone ran slick with blood. Scarcely a patch of the courtyard's surface was not scarred by terrible wounds or splattered with the blood of the fallen.

His rapidash had been the first to die. Lance had carved one of its forelegs clear from her body with unsettling ease. His nightmare of a charizard had struck the killing blow, tearing open her haunches and spilling steaming entrails onto the stone.

One of Jasmine's bugs had fallen next. The forrtress had been slow, too slow to haul itself away from the charizard's azure wrath. The dragon melted the bug into little more than a puddle of molten metal. Nothing remained of the bug's carapace, a shell that Lord Gold had seen shatter blades and splinter spears. One of the most resilient and durable beasts in Johto was simply gone, save for the puddle of slag left behind.

Lord Gold separated from Lance, his limbs screaming in agony. He had thrown himself at Lance in a despearate attempt to occupy the champion's attention. It hadn't worked and now he stood alone against the dragon while his allies spent themselves against the champion's beasts. None of the nobles had fallen yet, but it was simply a matter of time. They were going to lose. They were going to lose and Lance would sweep their leaderless armies away, like the unstoppable force he had become.

The dragon tamer spun away, his cape trailing behind him. Lord Gold panted desperately as he sucked in breath after breath of acrid, death filled air. "You could have let us go," he spat between breaths. His eyes scanned the battlefield, searching desperately for support where he knew none would be found. The others were preoccupied simply with survival, fighting a losing battle against the two dragons. His own pokemon fought valiantly with his allies, darting in to harry the larger beasts before scampering away from retaliation. "We did not wish to fight."

Lance grimaced, clutching at the gash on his left leg. One of Falkner's birds had gored him in the thigh, limiting his movement early in the battle. He'd gutted the brave little pidgeotto with a flick of his blade before it could escape his reach but the damage was done. He drew himself to his full height to face his former ally, ignoring the pain in his leg. The dragon inside him roared and strained against his restraints, threatening to break loose. "Then submit," he growled. "Bend the knee and this can be at an end."

"When will it end, Lance? Johto burns at your hand. When is it enough for you?"

The dragon smashed through his meagre resistance, enraged by the filth before him. Lance bellowed in a primal rage as he rushed the smaller trainer. He screamed in a tongue unheard from human voices in nearly a millennia. He swung his blade madly, all technique and finesse lost to overwhelming fury and inhuman strength.

Lord Gold swore, barely bringing his blade up to deflect the sudden attack. He fell back, ceding ground and the initiative to Lance's sudden berserker assault. The dragon tamer spat and cursed in his dead language even as he lashed Gold's defense with unrivalled power. Something had changed within Lance, irrevocably and irreversibly changed. Lord Gold had sparred with the last scion of the dragons a thousand times. The man before him was no longer simply a scion of past glory. He was changed, a savage beast reborn for a new era.

Lance stepped inside Gold's guard, attempting to force him back lest he be gored by a sudden shift of the champion's blade. Lord Gold went on the offensive for the first time in what felt like ages. He stepped back, swiping at Lance in a sudden attempt to cripple the tamer. Lance faltered for a heartbeat, either surprised by the sudden move or his judgement clouded by the rage. He did not falter long enough to allow Lord Gold to strike a deciding blow but it was enough. His blade tore a gash in Lance's injured leg, biting through muscle and sinew hungrily.

The dragon's reaction was immediate and visceral. The dragonite howled in agony, joined by the charizard a half a breath later. They turned towards their master with fire in their eyes. Lance deftly knocked away Lord Gold's distracted follow-up and forced the initiative back in his favour. Lord Gold desperately held his own, but the tamer was stronger and faster than he was. Lance locked his blade with Gold and trapped his opponent's weapon against his own body, stepping in closer to give himself more leverage.

Lance leaned in, grinning at Gold with a mouth full of teeth that were far too sharp to be fully human. "Do you see yet?" he hissed. "You have no more chance than cattle trapped in the butcher's grasp. My victory is inevitable. None can stand against the might of the dragon." He flashed his razor sharp teeth again and Gold saw something ancient burning behind his champion's eyes. It was old. It was angry. He had given Lance free reign to unleash something that none of them were ready for.

Lord Gold grunted in effort, holding Lance's blade at bay with every drop of strength his aching limbs could muster. The dragon master turned his blade, attempting to force it into Gold's gut where he would be gutted without a second thought. "No," Gold spat through gritted teeth. He knew his friends were falling, dropping like insects before an avalanche of stone. He could hear them fighting and dying against an impossible fate. "We will defy your will until the end. We will stand through your retribution. Johto may burn, but you will burn with us."

He grunted and heaved his blade with all the strength his battered body had left. It wasn't much but Lance shifted slightly, forced back a half-step by the sudden effort. Gold seized upon the opening, pressing harder against Lance's guard and forcing him back another step. Suddenly he was gone, melting away from Lance's reach and ducking under his flailing blade. The dragon tamer stumbled forward as his support disappeared, Lord Gold's frenzied resistance slipping underneath his clumsy strike.

Lance spun, slashing wildly at his opponent as he stumbled. Lord Gold rolled away from the blade's reach as his hand dove for the last ball on his belt. He came up with a determined scowl on his face, calmly facing down his champion. He raised the ball to the sky and released the monster within.

A pair of heavily armoured feet thudded into the cobblestone, a spiderweb of cracks spreading out from the impact points. Dark green scales, faded so much from decades of war that they were more grey than green, stretched up the beast's thick chest. Its belly was a shade of dark blue that seemed to drink in the scant amount of light that they fought in. The tyranitar stretched to his full height, seeming to tower over the two dragons that turned to face the new threat.

"Atlas!" Lord Gold shouted over the rippling and crackling noise of the tyrant's scales shifting. The beast glanced down at him, recognition dawning in his eyes. "Earthquake!"

The tyranitar tossed back his head and roared. The ground shook beneath them, rending itself apart at the will of a beast that could topple mountains. The earth screamed in protest as the mountains trembled and shifted. Slabs of the mountain that Tohjo Falls had been built into crumbled and shattered at the irresistible forces ripping them to pieces. The fortress shook, entire sections of Kanto's greatest creation falling away as the mountain that supported them simply disappeared into the earth. There was a resounding crack and the bridge ripped free of the gatehouse. It shook itself to pieces, countless men screaming in defiance of their fates as they plunged into a fissure that opened itself to swallow the bridge whole.

Lance bellowed a cry of desperation as he stumbled towards his quarry. Lord Gold was still watching his tyranitar in horror, still watching his pokemon rend the very earth to pieces. He never even saw Lance raise his blade.

* * *

Despite his wounded leg and the earth shaking beneath his feet, Lance's blade fell fast and true. His blade tore through Lord Gold's outstretched arm at the elbow. The limb fell to the ground with a muffled thump, barely heard over the roar of the titan he had unleashed. Lord Gold fell to the ground, clutching at the stump with his remaining hand. He writhed and screamed in pain, his eyes desperately raking the courtyard for any sign of assistance.

The infernal typhlosion slammed into Lance from behind, utterly immolating his cape and superheating his armour. The plate metal sagged and pressed against his skin, frying his back inside his armour. Lance grimaced, forcing himself to let the dragon within rage against the pain. He spun and swiped at the beast, but the fire-type scampered away faster than he could track.

He moved to take a step towards the downed Lord Gold, putting himself between the pokemon and his master. He braced himself and readied his blade to impale the typhlosion on his next charge. He never got the chance.

The courtyard cracked and buckled as the castle's supports crumbled even further. Great slabs of the fortress were dropping away into the void that had opened below, dragging the combatants into the deep with its final act. Jasmine's steelix disappeared into a flash of red as her skarmory carried her free. Falkner's birds were diving towards the battlefield, grabbing the few nobles that remained on their feet.

He turned as a shriek of pain erupted from Lord Gold behind him. The man's stump was pressed into his typhlosion's back, sizzling and cooking the flesh in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. His ampharos stood sentinel over them, daring Lance to come closer and face her wrath. Before Lance could so much as raise an arm, a pair of pidgeot swooped down. The great raptors shrieked and squawked defensively, threatening him with talons as long as his forearm. He stepped back, knowing that he was no threat as injured and alone as he was.

He grimaced as the Johtans fled the ruined fortress, his hand clamping over his wounded leg as the pain returned. The rage of the dragon within him receded and he felt exhaustion seep into his bones. "Beth!" he shouted into the sky.

His dragonite landed at his side, scooping him up and ignoring his cry of protest. A half moment later, the ground gave way as the remainder of Tohjo Falls slipped from its precarious perch. The tyranitar disappeared in a flash of light and Lance swore that the beast had not been taken into the void by its own wrath. The last few pieces of the fortress impacted the bottom of the chasm and the world fell strangely silent.

"Mira…" he croaked, his voice raw and hoarse from the battle. He stared down at the still smouldering ruins at the bottom of the chasm. Dust and smoke still rose into the sky, marking the tomb of thousands with a silent pyre. "Gods… What have we done?"

A strained growl from Betherian brought him back to reality. She was bleeding from a dozen wounds, crimson blood streaming off her orange scales into the sky. Lance urged her down with a silent command. Betherian landed in haphazard manner, half-crashing into a rocky outcropping that had survived the destruction.

Lance slipped off her back, finally feeling her ragged exhaustion. He ran his hands over her side and glanced up at the dragon. "You're hurt," he said calmly. "I'm sorry."

She snorted and shook her head. She puffed her chest out and hissed a warning at Drakon as he came in for a landing. She drew back to her full height, refusing to show weakness in front of her new clutchmate.

Drakon ignored her demonstrations, simply landing at the edge of the outcrop. He panted heavily and Lance could feel his exhaustion as well. His hide was not marred in half as many places as Betherian's, and he was not nearly as battered. He eyed Betherian lazily, gauging the younger dragon's remaining strength carefully. He grunted his approval and bowed his head in respect for the clutch leader.

A loud pop interrupted the solemn moment and both dragons reacted instantly. Betherian growled and stepped over Lance, ignoring her weakness for the time being. Drakon flapped his wings and pushed off the ground. He turned to the sky before banking back to bathe any new attacker in azure flame.

Lance caught a glimpse of the newcomers and threw himself in front of them without a second thought. "NO!" he roared, the fire inside him flaring in his desperation.

Betherian stopped at his shout, but Drakon was half a second too late. He belched a stream of flame at the newcomers, intent on roasting the intruders alive. His flame impacted a wall of psychic energy, doubling back on him and washing over his scales harmlessly. He roared and banked to the side, barely avoiding slamming into the wall himself.

"Drakon, down."

The midnight charizard heeded his tamer reluctantly. He thudded onto the outcropping and loomed over the intruders in an obvious show of strength.

"Will," Lance breathed as he pulled his wife into a crushing hug. "Thank the gods, you got them out."

The psychic nodded his head, eying Drakon warily. "Yes, along with most of the knights. Lord Gold's little stunt worked however. Our path into Johto is blocked."

Mira pulled out of her husband's hug and shot him a furious glare. "No thanks to you. What were you thinking?"

"I was-"

"You weren't!" she shouted, cutting him off before he could speak. "Hundreds, if not thousands of Johtans lie dead at the bottom of that blasted abyss. All because you could not wait for us. Because you rushed into action without considering the consequences yet again."

Lance fell silent, his face an emotionless mask. None had dare ever speak to him in such a manner. None except his wife. "I did what was necessary," he started. "Lord Gold had already turned the rest of the nobles against us, thanks to our departed Lord Envoy's work. They would have fought us regardless."

"And you have shown them that they must fight to the last man. You showed them no mercy, so they will fight as if there will be none. We cannot fight a war on two fronts, not if we expect to win."

Lance looked over at Clair, desperate for any support. She shook her head and Lance knew that he was alone. "We must return to Blackthorn. With the bridge gone, Kanto poses little threat to us. They can hardly marshal their forces together as it is. Johto must be dealt with before we can resume any march into Kanto."

Mira's expression fell into a solemn frown. "So we have become the conquerers that our enemies claim us to be?"

"Mira, I-"

A man stepped out of Will's shadow, sparking a warning growl from the two dragons. Will turned and raised an eyebrow, confused at his sudden appearance. "I believe that I may be of some assistance."

Mira practically growled as she turned to face the sellsword. "Captain Sakai, you are intruding on a-"

"Private conversation, I know." He grinned at her as he finished the sentence for her. "However, I feel as though I may be of some assistance in this matter." He turned to Lance and bowed his head in respect. "If I may be so bold as to offer my fealty to your grace." He dropped to one knee and drew his blade. The black sword seemed to drink in the pale light of the moon as he offered it up to the champion.

"And what would you have in return?" Lance asked. He took a step towards the captain, carefully regarding the sellsword and his intentions. "I've no land to reward you, nor any riches to offer. What would a sellsword captain offer me his fealty for?"

Captain Sakai looked up, the same malevolent grin on his face. "The fire of the gods," he started. "I have felt the change myself, as I am sure that you have. The world is changing. We are changing. Humanity must be ready for when the time comes. I believe that you are our best hope at surviving what comes next."

Lance stopped, looking down at the strange man who seemed to shift and bend with the darkness. It seemed as if his form were melting away in the night. "And what is coming next?" he asked.

Captain Sakai looked up, his eyes shining silver in the pale moonlight. "Glorious salvation," he replied. "The return of the gods and humanity's final stand." He paused for a moment, letting the scope of his warning sink in. "I would stand with you," he said.

Lance took his blade and lifted it up to his face. The sword was as dark as night, an instrument of darkness built to swallow the light whole. He looked down at captain Sakai and made his choice. "Rise my vassal, and take your blade. We have dire need of your army."

Lord Sakai rose, taking his blade back from the champion and sheathing it. "Just tell me where to march," he said.

* * *

_We are now officially through the second major story arc of Salvation! The real war has begun, and a larger threat is revealed. How can our heroes stand against such reckless power?_

_Probably with an ocean of blood ;)_

_Until next time! As always, please drop me a review or a pm if you're feeling it. I survive off the dew of the universe and the sweet sweet scent of fresh reviews._


	10. Awakening

**Arc 3: Tomb of Stone**

**Awakening**

_Hope is fleeting. Something greater stirs._

* * *

Leaf trudged along, oblivious to the rhythmic footfalls of the flock following her. They had emerged from the forest a day ago to find the last waystation manned by a pair of shocked scouts. They'd gone on ahead to warn Pewter of their arrival. Not a single soul had greeted them along the Stone Road. Hundreds and hundreds of the smallfolk had simply disappeared on the forced march, but still thousands more had survived thanks to the remnants of the city guard. They'd even replaced a few of their losses in the forest with some of the more capable smallfolk that hadn't been conscripted into the army.

"Commander," the guardsman said as he sidled up beside her. He handed the wineskin to her and sighed. "The last of the wine, as you requested."

She took it silently and tipped it back. Nox had been positively gleeful as they had trekked through the forest. The shadows cast by the massive foliage had been prime hunting grounds for him, giving him countless shadows to stalk prey from. More than once, she had caught him stalking one of the smallfolk, or terrorizing one of the few livestock they had left. She hadn't allowed herself to think about the ones she hadn't caught him stalking. That was what the wine was for.

The guardsman continued, oblivious to the turmoil raging inside his commander. "We should arrive at Pewter proper by tomorrow morning. Won't need to beg these farmers for scraps anymore."

She cast him a sideways glance. "Viridian was one of Kanto's breadbaskets. Our crops kept the other cities fed and let them focus on other needs." She motioned to the run down farm beside the road and grimaced. "These people are miners and prospectors. They can barely feed themselves, let alone half a city of refugees."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that we won't be able to stay in Pewter. Not unless something changes dramatically. They might have the food stores for a couple months, but they'll starve themselves if we stay here." She sighed and tipped back the wineskin. She drained it in one go and handed it back to the guardsman. "It means that we aren't safe yet. We'll have to keep moving, probably to Celadon or Vermillion. They have an agricultural base that could support us, though I doubt that either city will be overly accommodating."

The guardsman fell silent for a moment, considering her words. "What about Cerulea-"

Nox screamed across their bond, warning her of the riders before she could see them. She raised a hand, bringing the procession to a halt and silencing the guardsman. They were moving fast, coming up on them from the edge of the forest. By the speed they were moving, the refugees would have just enough time to reach view of the city walls. Just enough time to see their salvation before they were run down.

"Riders from the south," she said curtly.

"Johtans?" he asked.

Nox was screaming more frantic warnings. They were moving fast, mounted on a variety of pokemon. There was no uniformity to their ranks, save for the pitch black armour that they wore. Armour that seemed to swallow up the light and dim the blazing midday sun.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Nox doesn't think so. They aren't flying any banners…" Her voice trailed off and she suppressed a chill as it ran down her spine. Nox was screaming bloody murder through their link, as if he was well and truly scared. "There's something else too. Don't know what, but it has Nox spooked."

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but hesitated. She watched his hand drop to his blade nervously.

"Speak, guardsman."

He nodded, his hesitation gone. "With all due respect ma'am, what could scare a ghost?"

She paused just long enough for him to turn and catch her terrified expression. Ghosts were naturally fearless creatures, born of pain and suffering. The fear resonating between her and Nox was something primal, more a natural instinct than any tangible fear. She looked at the guardsman and swallowed her fear. "Nothing that scares me," she said. "Spread the word among the rest of the guard. Break the march and scatter the citizens in as many groups and directions as you can. Then rally as many of the guard as you can and return to me here."

He bowed his head and turned to carry out her orders. "Yes, commander."

She didn't wait to watch him go. She dropped her hand to her belt, lifting Seraph's ball and releasing the pidgeot. "Find help," she ordered. "Bring anyone you can."

The bird threw herself into the sky, tearing away towards Pewter without a second thought.

Leaf turned back to the road they had been marching down, her mind already racing. She raised another ball, releasing Saur. The ivysaur stretched and yawned in the morning sun. He happily grunted upon seeing her and pressed against her leg affectionately.

"Thanks, Saur…" she started as her voice trailed off. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and knelt down to her pokemon's level. "This next fight might be it for us." She reached out and patted the ivysaur on the top of his head. "Thanks for sticking around so long. I'm sorry we never evolved you."

He croaked and puffed up his chest. The bulb on his back shook and practically quivered with excitement.

She chuckled and smirked. "Well if you really want to evolve so badly, then get to it!" She glanced in Nox's direction and let her fearless expression slip. "You better get a move on though. If those riders have their way, you might never get a chance." She lowered her voice and her eyes so that Saur couldn't see her. "Because you might be our only chance."

She felt him nudge her with his nose. A pair of vines lifted her gaze and for a long moment her pokemon locked eyes with her. Saur lowered his nose and pressed into her, allowing his trainer one last moment of respite before hell broke loose.

* * *

Above all, the thing Red hated the most about Pewter was the smell. The dank, damp stench of the caves below the fortress seeping up through the countless mine shafts and passageways. Even the fresh air at the top of the parapets had a damp, earthy scent to it. He grumbled to himself, yawning and reaching up to his shoulder. His pikachu squeaked happily and aggressively pressed into his hand for attention.

Pewter was built into the foothills of Mount Moon, the city extending in a ragged patchwork around the keep. It was a chaotic and disorderly mess that afforded no helpful defense against any encroaching army.

"Or a dragon," he muttered, thinking back to Viridian's fate.

"What's that?" Blue's voice said, startling Red with his sudden appearance.

Red shook his head. "Nothing," he said. "Any news?"

Blue sighed and leaned against the wall, looking out over the city. "None," he said bitterly. "There's been no sign of any survivors."

"So what brings you all the way up here?" Red asked. "The smell getting to you too?"

"Yeah," Blue nodded. "Don't know how much more I can take. At least up here I can still pretend that I can smell the sea." He squinted his eyes, peering south at the smudge of blue on the horizon. "I think I can still see it."

Red couldn't help but chuckle at his Lord's discomfort. "Not a fan of Pewter, then?"

Blue fell silent for a long moment, deep in thought before he turned to look at Red. "I'm sure it has its charms. I just haven't been privy to a great many of them, though not for want of trying."

Red caught the scent of sweet ale on his breath and smiled knowingly. "Brock run through Pewter's ale supply yet?"

Blue shook his head and relaxed slightly as a small smile came to his face. "No," he replied wryly. "It seems to be as unlimited as he claimed."

Red laughed at that and patted his inebriated Lord on the shoulder. "Not for lack of trying though?"

"Nah, we tried…" he trailed off, his eyes glazing over. "Too much, even for us." He turned away and his happily drunk expression wavered for a moment. "Can I ask you something?"

Red nodded.

Blue wrung his hands together and looked back at his friend. "Do you really think anybody made it out of Viridian alive? All I can see is the charred bones littering the square, and the rubble of the castle walls. I just picture the people I knew burning in that bloody firestorm, crying out to me for help when I wasn't there for them." He took a breath, and it was silent for a moment as he composed himself. "It's my fault. I could have been there. I'd have bowed to that bloody dragon, kissed his boots if it would have made him spare my people. But instead…" His voice trailed off and he held back tears with clear difficulty. "I'm the lord of ashes. I preside over a court of bones, soaked in my own bloody failure."

Red sighed and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "It isn't your fault. Lance was coming for Viridian no matter whether you were there or not. The only thing your presence would have done would have been to add another body to the pyre." He sighed and put on a brave face for his friend. "There were survivors, Blue. We saw the tracks ourselves."

"How do you know they made it?" He asked, his voice straining. Blue hadn't been sleeping well, not that Red could fault him for that. Viridian had left its mark on both of them. It had only been a matter of time until one of them cracked under the strain.

"I'll be completely honest," Red started. "I don't know if they made it. I don't know if anyone else is alive. But I still have hope. Viridian was our home. Her people were our friends. If there's any shred of a chance that any of them survived…" He trailed off in turn and locked eyes with Blue. "We have to have hope. Because what else do we have if hope is lost?"

Blue choked back the tears that threatened to fall and covered his face with his hands. He turned away from Red and leaned over the battlements to take a breath.

Red sidled up beside his friend and put a hand on his shoulder. "Stay strong, my king," he said softly. "Kanto needs you."

Blue's head jerked up and his eyes widened at the piercing screech. "Pidgeot," he stated, recognizing the cry instantly.

Red scanned the horizon, picking out the growing speck racing towards them. "Odd," He observed. "It's alone. Not part of a flock. Pidgeot never travel alone."

They looked at each other in amazement as their minds raced towards the same conclusion.

Red couldn't help his shit-eating grin. He elbowed Blue in the ribs and leaned in towards his ear. "I told you she was alive."

* * *

She stood in defiance, watching the aura of overwhelming dread barrel towards her. Nox had rejoined her, hiding in shadows for the moment he would be needed. Saur was hidden in the farmer's field, his leafy bulb barely visible above the crops. Leaf knew that a dozen men were waiting alongside him, watching for her signal to attack.

She stood there for what felt like an eternity, her bow held at the ready with an arrow just waiting to be nocked. The sun dipped in the sky as the day wore on, pounding down on them with all the heat it could muster in the chilly northern highlands of Kanto. The rest of the guard stood at her back, ready and waiting to slam their shields together in a wall at a moment's notice. They stood defiant in the face of an enemy that seemed to radiate death with their very presence.

Her grip tightened on her bow as Nox screamed a terrified warning. She raised a fist and the guard drew their blades in one smooth motion. She grimaced at the men, knowing that if it came to a fight they'd be slaughtered like cattle. Still, she couldn't help but be proud of Viridian's last stand. They would give their people a fighting chance to find some refuge, even if it would kill them all to do it.

The enemy slowed their advance as they came into view, giving her a clear look at them as they approached. Their armour was as black as the night's sky, but infinitely more sinister. It seemed to drink in the fading sunlight and dim the world around them. She heard a soft murmer of fear at her back, but silenced the dissent with a withering glare.

She turned back to face the charging army and met eyes with the man at the head of the formation. His eyes were cold and grey, unfeeling and unflinching in his resolve. She knew wholeheartedly that the man was the source of the aura of death. She caught him grin and steeled herself for battle.

The enemy had other ideas. They slowed to a crawl, forming up into a wedge just outside the range of her bow. Dozens of powerful, fearsome pokemon chafed at the restraint, eager to let their instincts run wild. Leaf scanned the formation, marking half a dozen mercenary leaders that she'd seen skulking around Viridian's seedy underbelly in the past few years. Hundreds more that she didn't recognized were spread out throughout the company, mercenaries from every corner of the globe by all appearances.

For every rapidash or arcanine that she saw, there were at least as many foreign pokemon throughout the formation. There were dozens of arbok and ryhorn along one flank of the riders, the serpents remaining oddly silent while their masters waited for orders. The other flank held a more eclectic collection of pokemon, most of them unfamiliar to Leaf. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat as the winged sillouettes of several dozen golbat rose into the sky. A massive four-winged bat outpaced them all, taking a position higher than the rest of the formation.

The man at the head of the wedge dismounted his rhydon with a casual grace. He waved away the attendants that rushed to fuss over them and simply strode towards Viridian's guard. He planted his feet, one hand resting lazily on the crossguard of his blade as he regarded the small force of men that dared to defy him. A lithe persian slipped from behind the rhydon and glowered at the Viridian guard hungrily, mirroring her master's cold silver gaze.

Leaf drew the bow to full draw and loosed an arrow. It slammed into the dirt not inches away from the man, but he did not flinch or otherwise acknowledge the unmistakable threat underlining the arrow. She lowered the bow and began in her best attempt at an imposing shout. "You will turn back! Kanto has no want for a new warlord eager to prey upon the weak. Leave now, or the next one goes between your eyes." She nocked another arrow and readied her bow to punctuate her threat.

He shook his head and Leaf saw him visibly sigh. He drew his blade and she drew in a sharp breath. The sword was a long bastard sword that seemed to drink in the sunlight and dim the evening just a little more. She had to suppress a shudder as he brandished a blade that set off instincts that had long been buried deep within. She knew that something was wrong, utterly and completely wrong with him. His very presence perverted the natural order of the world. For the very first time in her life, she felt as though she was the prey and not the predator.

She didn't wait for him to give the order to charge. She loosed her arrow, letting it fly with all the confidence that an expert bowman carried themselves with. The arrow didn't even make it halfway to the target before the sun's waning strength finally died and plunged them suddenly into an impossibly black night.

Leaf felt a chill run down her spine as her men cried out in terror as their sense of sight failed them. Then she heard the charge and prepared herself for an avalanche of death.

* * *

Red had never felt Dodo move as fast as he was now. The dodrio was fast, almost as fast as Leaf's Pidgeot in flight when at full sprint. They'd left most of Brock's men behind in their hurry, with only Blue and Brock barely keeping pace a minute or two behind him on the Lord of Pewter's fearsome onix. Red felt a pang of guilt that he had never truly tested his dodrio's abilities before this war had begun. She was only now showing him what the three-headed bird was truly capable of.

Late evening seemed to bleed into an impossibly dark night as they surged towards Viridian's last stand, the sunlight dimming unnaturally quickly. Seraph screeched overhead, giving Red a bearing to follow in the scant light of the moon. Even as far ahead of support as he was, he could not afford to slow his pace, not with Seraph's frantic urgings above him. He had to find Leaf before something terrible-

Red jumped and shrieked as a muscular arm reached out at him from the suffocating darkness. Seraph dropped into a steep dive and buried her talons into the machamp's arm, but not before it clotheslined Red and sent him soaring through the air. He flipped end over end, gasping desperately for the air that had been driven from his lungs as his pikachu tumbled away in the dark. He landed hard and rolled to a stop in a crumpled heap.

The machamp roared in pain as he swatted at Seraph ineffectually. Seraph flapped her wings and tore her talons free of the beast's shoulder and shredded the muscles within. The beast ripped a chunk of earth from the ground with its three good arms, intent to pitch it at the pidgeot harrying it. A bolt of lightning smote the machamp in the side, driving the muscled beast to its knees and forcing it to drop the chunk of earth.

A flash of red light returned the machamp to its ball just as Dodo rounded on it, all three heads screeching bloody murder at the pokemon that had just downed her trainer. Another flash of light erupted, illuminating the gruesome scene for a brief moment as another pokemon was called forth.

Dozens of bodies littered the road, all bearing signs of the battle that had taken place here. Red forced himself up to one knee with obvious difficulty, eyes scanning the battlefield for his attacker and only finding the fresh horror of a massacre's aftermath. He barely had a moment to breathe before he threw himself to the side.

The arbok buried its fangs in the dirt, missing him by inches. He rolled away as it buried a bladed tail in the dirt where he had been a fraction of a second earlier. He tore his blade free of its sheath even as he dropped his hand to his belt to release the rest of his pokemon.

Char materialized with a snarl, casting flickering and foreboding shadows with his tail flame. His butterfree appeared with a flutter of wings, desperately flapping to gain some distance from the frantic melee. Finally, his primeape appeared with a primal bellow.

The furious ape didn't bother to wait for an order. He charged the arbok, driving his meaty fists into the trapped serpent's side in a berserker rage. The arbok hissed and spat a spray of acid violently as she shook herself free of the dirt. She disappeared into the shadows, leaving only a puddle of steaming poison behind.

Red stepped back and glanced around, finally taking a moment to take stock of his situation. His pokemon were clustered around him, all staring defiantly into the darkness. Seraph had disappeared into the black, though he could hear her piercing cry along with the terrifying bellow of something massive. He thought for a moment that he heard the baritone roar of Saur somewhere close by, but couldn't be sure.

"This is what Pewter sends to save the last of their closest allies?" A woman's voice cut through the darkness, taunting Red with its proximity. Whoever it was, she had a cold tone to her voice that told Red she would have no problem cutting him and his team down. "A boy?"

Another voice cut through the black, a musical tinge to it that disguised a similarly cold and callous tone. "Take care, Jessie. Were we not children at one time as well?"

Finally, Red spotted them. They stood at the light cast by Char's tail flame, shrouded in shadows that seemed to warp around them. He turned to face them, his pokemon following his lead. "Where is she?" he growled.

They stepped into the light, and Red caught a proper look at his attackers. It was a man and a woman, both clad in the same midnight armour that seemed to drink in the scant amount of light and warp the darkness around them. The woman stood a half-step in front of her companion, blood-red hair flowing down to her waist. She held a spear lazily at her side, the point tracing a line in the dirt. "James, my dear, I believe that we have a lovestruck fool on our hands. He's all alone, with no-"

Red didn't wait for her to finish. He pointed his blade towards the pair, desperation straining his voice. "Thunderbolt!"

Pika leapt off his shoulder, blazing with all the brightness of a fallen star in the pitch black. A bolt of crackling lightning erupted from the little mouse and tore a path towards the pair. They dove to the sides, abandoning their theatrics as Red and his pokemon charged towards them.

A sudden burst of flashes from the pair erupted into a trio of pokemon that bounded forward to meet Red's team. The machamp met his primeape with a thunderous crash, wrestling the smaller pokemon to the dirt. Char leapt onto the machamp's back, snarling and spitting flame into the gashes his claws tore in the machamp's leathery hide.

His butterfree flapped madly, stirring up a torrent of wind that the bug directed towards the cloud of noxious gas billowing from the wheezing they had called out. It swept away the gas, giving the bug a clear look at the monster belching poison gas at its trainer. Its antennae quivered and reality bulged and warped under the strain of the wave of psychic energy.

The arbok struck from the darkness faster than the little bug could react to. The massive serpent flung itself into the air, coiling around the butterfree and crushing it with a twist of her coils. The entire exchange lasted less than a second before the remains of Red's butterfree skittered along the ground, crushed beyond recognition.

Red howled internally, already pointing and ordering Pika after the arbok. The little mouse bravely dashed into action, launching a barrage of lightning at the serpent that forced her onto the defensive. The serpent slunk away as bolt after bolt of lightning charred the ground where she had been half a moment too late.

Red's blade crashed into the haft of Jessie's spear, carving a deep furrow into the wooden polearm. He stepped back, batting away James' opportunistic thrust of his blade before he could be gutted by it. Jessie swept her spear low, taking out Red's legs and knocking him to the ground. He rolled away, but found himself cornered by the pair of sellswords.

Jessie thrust her spear into the dirt beside Red's head, putting a sudden end to his struggles. She planted one foot on her chest and bent over him. "Did you really think you could save them?" she asked, her voice genuinely curious. "One child against the weight of destiny?"

He looked back at his pokemon, fear building in his mind as the battle turned against them. The machamp bellowed in pain, still hammering vicious blows down on his prone primeape. An endless tongue snaked around Char's torso, tearing the young wyvern off the machamp's back and slamming him into the ground. The machamp disappeared in a flash of red as James recalled it to its waiting ball.

Jessie smirked as his primeape struggled to force itself to its feet. "Tenacious, isn't he?" she asked as she turned her head back to look at Red.

He spat in her face, a thick glob of saliva splattering across both of them. She recoiled and stepped away, wiping away the spit. "He gets it from me," Red said as pride swelled in his chest.

Jessie turned to look at the primeape and smirked. She whistled once, sharp and high.

Her arbok sprung from the darkness, coiling around his primeape and crushing his ineffectual resistance. In one smooth movement, the serpent flared her hood and sank her fangs deep into his primeape's meaty shoulder.

Red rolled and pushed himself up to his knees, refusing to allow the sellswords see him cry. He forced himself up, drawing a bemused look from James as he readied his weapon. Red raised his own blade with the rest of the strength he could muster as the arbok let his primeape slump lifelessly to the ground. "You say that I am but one child against the weight of destiny," he started. Despite the perilous situation, a knowing smile crossed his face. "But I am not alone."

Brock and Blue landed behind the sellswords as the pride of Pewter stretched to her full height. Shale, Brock's massive onix, stretched nearly thirty feet into the sky. The massive stone serpent screeched, a sound that pierced the darkness and rang across the battlefield. There was a series of flashes at the base of the onix as Brock and Blue released the rest of their teams against the pair of sellswords.

Blue's titanic blastoise roared at the sellswords as he levelled the massive bone cannons on his shoulders. Vekta, his scyther, buzzed menacingly at his side with her bladed arms quivering in anticipation. Behind them all, Wrath unfurled her wings and shrieked a piercing cry as she raised her razor-pointed beak to the sky. The fearow squawked angrily and flapped her wings twice, taking off into the night.

Jessie sneered as she retreated into the darkness. Her pokemon disappeared into their balls as the darkness warped around them and swallowed the sellsword whole.

Red turned as James disappeared after her, taking his pokemon with him. Red spared a glance at his fallen primeape and felt a wave of emotions come crashing down. He turned away, looking at his saviours before he broke down in grief. "Leaf," he started.

Blue stared down at the dead primeape in horror, his jaws agape. "Red, your pokemon."

Red turned away as Pika leapt up to his shoulder. The little mouse nuzzled into his cheek, giving him some solace as he steeled himself for more. "She's all that matters. Or else they died for nothing."

Blue nodded and turned to face the darkness with his friend. "Then we go together."

* * *

Leaf nocked another arrow and loosed in in the direction of the charging enemy. She heard a meaty thwack as the arrow slammed home, and the pained cry of her target. She stepped back and let the guard slam their shield wall back together not a moment too soon. The shield wall crumpled and a pair of guardsmen fell, not quick enough to defend against their unseen opponents' spears. Their formation responded like a well-oiled machine, sealing the hole in their line and retreating into a ragged circle.

She spun, following the sound of hooves thundering by and the faint light that was barely visible from one of the riders. She had Nox merge with her arrow and let it fly into the darkness. A scream of terror ripped through the night as the arrow embedded itself in the rapidash's haunches. Nox laughed maniacally as he emerged from the arrow and ripped into the steed's leg, shredding muscle and tendon alike with shadowy talons. The sellsword went down under the rapidash in a gruesome crunch that left the both of them motionless.

Guardsman Harrisson was next, a spear he hadn't been able to see coming goring him in the neck. He fell to the ground, frantically clutching at the wound as he bled out in the dirt. Another guardsmen fell a moment later, victim of a passing blow that had taken him in the back while he deflected an attack from the rapidash rider harrying him from the front. The formation was collapsing, their rough circle growing smaller and smaller as they lost more of their number.

Leaf glanced at the men around her, watching them fight and die in a hopeless battle. As strong as they were, their exhaustion and lack of formal battle training was taking its deadly toll. An arbok struck from the darkness, coiling around one of their number and sinking fangs as long as her forearm into the man's neck. They were like cattle led to the slaughter, unable to even reach their mounted opponents or react to surprise attacks from the black. Unless she could even the odds slightly. She felt Nox merge with her shadow and spotted an opening. "Nox, nightmare!"

The gengar giggled and Leaf suppressed the wave of glee that surged out from her ghost. He rose from her shadow, his eyes glowing a deep purple in the blackness. He homed in on the arbok as it lost control of itself and shredded the serpent's side with a set of deep purple claws. Her gengar cackled madly as he ballooned in size and flung the limp serpent's corpse into the night.

"Close your eyes," Leaf shouted over the carnage. "Don't look at him!"

A pair of guardsmen in front of her glanced back, either not heeding or not understanding the warning. She swore under her breath as they collapsed into screaming messes at the sight of the malevolent shade hanging over them all. Without question, the circle shrunk again as the men backed towards Leaf and left the pair to their fate.

She nocked another arrow and let it fly, dropping one of the shadowy figures she had seen moving beyond the shield wall. There was less movement in the darkness, but still she could tell that they were hopelessly outmatched. She didn't have nearly enough men to make a difference, but perhaps she could-

A raticate interrupted her train of thought as it pounced on one of the remaining guardsmen and trapped him under his own shield. The two guardsmen on each side turned and plunged their blades into the hissing and spitting pokemon, scoring mortal blows along the raticate's flanks. It collapsed onto the fallen guardsmen, pinning him below the bleeding corpse as it thrashed wildy in its death throes.

A golbat took the guardsman on the right before he could reorient his shield. The golbat's fangs crushed through the guardsman's armour with ease, tearing apart the oak tree sigil emblazoned on his chest.

Leaf grimaced as the man screamed, knowing his fate had been sealed long ago. She pointed Nox at the golbat and didn't fight the wave of pleasure that ran through the ghost. Nox sailed over the shrinking formation, pelting the golbat with a hail of shadowy projectiles that left smoking pockmarks in its leathery hide. The bat shrieked and flapped madly away even as Nox pounced and shredded its wings mid-flight. There was a deafening screech of pain that was suddenly cut short as Nox finished off the downed pokemon with a savage twist of his claws.

A piercing cry broke the night and Seraph slammed into a sellsword that had fancied himself brave enough for a direct charge. The force of her blow tore the man clear out of his saddle and slammed him into the ground, leaving his ryhorn charging in a straight line that their formation easily parted around. The pidgeot banked hard and swooped back down for another attack.

A bolt of lightning lit up the night for a brief moment, barely missing Seraph as she dove towards the earth. Leaf's pidgeot pulled out of the dive and flared her wings as she descended on the strange striped pokemon that had launched the bolt. Her talons easily pierced its hide, biting deep into vital organs. The pokemon dropped to the ground as Seraph savaged its rider with her razor sharp beak and left him with half his face torn away. Seraph took flight again, screeching madly as she descended on another mounted sellsword in a frenzy.

More men appeared from the darkness. A rank of sellswords marched slowly and surely towards them, abandoning all pretense of mounted combat. A pair of pokemon that she didn't recognize loomed over the advancing sellswords, their focus solely on the ghost that towered over them all. They were coming to strike the killing blow, to grind down the stubborn formation of men that refused to yield in the face of death. When they turned to face the new threat, the mounted men that had surrounded them would pick them apart from behind. It would well and truly be over for them all.

One of the guardsmen at her side spared her a glance. "My lady, you must go."

She shook her head furiously. She was the commander and she would not abandon them.

"Yes," he said, more forceful than he had been before. "Live to bleed these bastards another day. This battle's outcome was written before it even began. Don't sacrifice yourself for your pride."

"It's not pride," she said, her voice cracking. "It's for the people we stayed behind to save."

The guardsman shook his head, lowering his blade for a quick moment. "Then live, and save more of them." He raised his blade and turned away, reforming their hasty circle into a line facing down the approaching sellswords. "Don't waste this."

She couldn't say anything as a painful mix of pride in her men and regret at their fates swelled in her chest. She turned and ran for the fields, blocking out the last charge of Viridian's guard. She didn't stop until the sounds of battle faded and the darkness didn't seem so malicious.

Leaf fell to her knees as the depth of her failures set in. Seraph landed gently at her side, but she couldn't bring herself to look at the bird of prey. Viridian's guard was simply gone. The people she had just spent over a month in a forest with were dead or scattered across Pewter's countryside at the mercy of this blasted sellsword company. Everything she had worked for was gone in a matter of minutes, with one miserable battle wiping away the miniscule amounts of progress she had made.

Nox emerged from her shadow, still revelling in the kills he'd made during the battle. She fought back nausea as the ghost shared the memory of what it had done to the arbok and giggled at the thought of the serpent's limp corpse. She lost the battle with her stomach and emptied the scant contents of her gut into the dirt as she lost control.

She felt a brush against her shoulder and looked up at her ghost. He was showing concern for once, attempting to comfort her as best he could. Nox's mad laughter stopped as he shared more memories of what he had done during the battle. She watched him tear the spear out of a sellsword's hands as he bounded back to her side and impale him with it just as he bore down on one of the guardsmen.

Leaf smiled and sat back, looking at her ghost. "You're just a softie, aren't you?" She asked, realizing that the ghost was simply looking for her approval in his own savage way. "At least we all made it out alive." Her hand went down to her belt and she froze in sudden realization. Saur was still lying in wait where she had left him.

She turned back and her heart sank as she chastised herself for her carelessness. She lifted Saur's empty ball and without a second thought, dashed back into the unforgiving night. She ran towards the battlefield she had just left, praying that her ivysaur was as stealthy as she had trained him to be.

She was alone now, against an oppressive darkness that did nothing to calm her nerves. Normally, she felt at home in the pitch black of night. However, this was not an ordinary darkness. Lavender's legends told of a time when the night grew darker, of men made of darkness that hunted those like her who dwelled in the night. Leaf had never been one for superstition, but the darkness that pressed against her felt wrong. Perhaps some legends held some truth after all.

She pressed into Saur's side, silently returning him to his ball as she let relief wash over her. He was barely visible in the field of crops, only the very tip of his bulb peeking over the stalks. The rest of the guard that she had stationed with him was gone. Whether they had run before or after the darkness fell she couldn't say. It wasn't as if she could blame them. They'd all known that any battle would have ended in a bloodbath. She turned away from the road, trying to peer through darkness that seemed to swirl around her and stretch on for an eternity.

A deafening roar split the night as the terrible rhydon let loose, nearly startling her into bolting through the field. She stopped herself, seizing control of instincts that screamed at her to run. Running would only give her position away, something that would prove deadly if she was right.

She was proven right a moment later. The desperate rustling of men dashing through the field of crops reached her ears. The last survivors of Viridian's guard were making a desperate break for safety. A moment later, the earth shook and the titanic footfalls of an angry beast surged past her in the dark. She peered through the crops, straining for any sign of the beast. She might have been able to distract it, maybe give a few of the men enough time to get away and guide some of the smallfolk away from this war.

A rustling behind her drew her attention in the nick of time. The sellswords were slowly spreading out into the field she was hidden in, slowly picking their way through the crops. She drew her bow and nocked an arrow just as the scarred face of an older sellsword appeared between the stalks. Her arrow flew fast and true, slamming into the man's exposed throat. She dashed forward and caught him just as he toppled forwards, choking on his own blood.

The man's midnight armour sizzled against her skin, nearly making her drop him heavily to the ground. She hissed in pain as she lowered him to the ground as silently as she could. She tore her arrow free and crept off into the night, leaving the body behind for his companions to discover.

She grinned as Nox made his pleasure known. He was unusually subdued for the situation, but she couldn't afford to spare any time to ask him why. A half a moment later, a panicked shout told her that her kill had been discovered. She nocked another arrow and fired it towards the shouting, grinning when a cry of pain reached her ears.

They might be hunting her, but she was a hunter herself. One that fed off fear and lived in the dark. It might not be her darkness that surrounded her, but she could use it all the same. She silently crept through the brush and doubled back with her bow stowed over her shoulder. She was going to enjoy returning the mercy that the sellswords had shown her men. One at a time they would see why hunting a wraith at night was the wrong idea.

* * *

"I can't see a goddamn thing, Red."

Red shot Blue an angry glance, but remained quiet. He crept forward as quickly as he dared, scanning the flickering shadows that Char's tail flame cast on their surroundings. Most of the bodies were Viridian city guards, but several black-clad sellswords dotted the field as a grim reminder of the last stand that had been fought here. At the very least, the guard had forced the sellswords to fight for their victory.

Brock turned to look at Blue, his eyes flitting back into the darkness every few moments. "We should have waited for the rest of my men. We're too exposed out here."

"I know," Blue replied wearily. "I don't like this. We should have come across more than just those two back there. It feels like we're walking into a trap."

Red glanced back at them. "How can you tell?" he asked. "We could have walked right past them in this damn darkness. I can barely see a thing."

"That's the point," Blue said. "We can't see them." He pointed at Char and the flame burning on his tail. "But they can see him. I guarantee that at least those two are still watching us. More too though, if this massacre is anything to go by."

"Massacre?" Red asked cautiously. "These were Viridian City guards. These were survivors and you're worried about whether or not it's a trap? What if there are more survivors out there that we could save, but you wouldn't risk your life to find them?"

"Then I will live with that," Blue said bitterly. He clenched his fists a little tighter, hating himself for the cold response. "I am your lord and I will not risk what few resources I have left on a question of what if."

Red fell silent, stewing over his lord's orders. "How can you tell that it's a trap?" he asked cautiously.

Blue set his jaw and stared past Red into the darkness. "Because the man who set it is standing right there."

Red turned and followed his gaze, trying to peer into the darkness. It was useless. He couldn't see anything save for the eerie flames in the distance that flitted between dark shades of purple and red. Then the darkness shifted and a figure stepped out of the night.

"Well," the man started. His voice was hard, honed by years of cruelty. "It seems as though my trap has been sprung." He drew his blade, a longsword that shone a foreboding and terrifying black despite the darkness, illuminated by only the eerie flames behind him. Though the blade was as black as night, it was clearly visible even as the darkness warped and shifted around the man. A hulking shadow moved behind him and his rhydon's massive horned head came into view. "Welcome to the day of Kanto's reckoning. I just have one question before you all die." He took a step forward and grinned with malicious intent as a persian emerged from between the rhydon's legs. His eyes shone like silver stars and the darkness seemed to swirl around him in thick currents. "Where is the Orb?"

* * *

_Wow, this chapter hit me like a truck. I wrote it in the last 3 days, much faster than usual for me lol._

_Anyways, just a quick update from me. I'm still alive and kicking. I'm an essential worker of an essential business, so I don't really get to have a nice cozy isolation writing like I'd love to. But I'm still around, so please enjoy the chapter. _

_As always, I live for your reviews. Please drop one, or even hit me with a PM. I'm positively starving for feedback._


	11. Fire of the Gods

**Arc 3: Tomb of Stone**

**Fire of the Gods**

_Awake and angry. A fool's gambit._

* * *

Blue raised an eyebrow at the sellsword, curiosity and confusion getting the better of him momentarily. "What Orb?" he asked. "Who the hell are you?"

The sellsword frowned and the darkness seemed to thicken with his displeasure. "Don't disrespect me by feigning ignorance. I know that the Oaks held a great treasure in Viridian's vault, one that was gone when Lance sacked the city. I want it, and you will give it to me. Or else you will watch the last survivors of Viridian pay the price for your defiance."

"What are you talking about?" Blue spluttered. "I don't have any Orb."

The man remained silent and simply raised his hand. The darkness receded slightly, revealing the half-dozen men bound and gagged at the mercy of the sellswords. He closed his hand into a fist without a word. His icy grey eyes never left Blue's horrified face as the sellswords raised their weapons to the prisoners without question. "Last chance, child."

Blue's eyes desperately flitted between the prisoners, instantly and horrifyingly recognizing each man. They had been members of the guard, possibly the last surviving members of his people. "I don't have any Orb, please," he pleaded. "My people have no quarrel with you, we are simple refugees. Leave us be in peace and we can forget this."

The sellsword stared down the desperate king and a sadistic grin spead across his face. He shook his head and gave a curt reply. "No."

His men executed their prisoners at the signal, spilling their blood into the dirt and letting their bodies fall lifelessly to the ground. The darkness surged forward and covered them all, leaving only prone forms in the dark to taunt Blue.

The sellsword's malevolent smile never left his face. "Blue Oak, last scion of the great Oak kings of old…" He trailed off, and the darkness swirled around him in a mad pattern. "I had thought the last Oak would have been more impressive. You are just a mewling child, scrabbling like the rest of this forsaken nation at the barest scraps of power. I command the fire of the gods themselves, what can you do but burn in the face of my glorious purpose?"

"We'll fight you," Red said, finding his voice. "Together." He stepped forward as Blue's resolve wavered and the colour drained from his face. "Kanto will never stop. We will never stop fighting you. Not until your glorious purpose is shown to be the ravings of the lunatic that you are."

The man turned his head, regarding Red with a cold smile through the darkness. "Such bravery from a child…" he started slowly. "It is little wonder that the rest of your precious order fought to the last man. However, your time is at an end. Your dead god will remain as such."

"You're insane," Red stated. "You're absolutely mad."

He stared at Red, his eyes cold and hard. "Ah," he started. "Just a whelp, not even aware of his own true self yet." He shook his head and sighed. "You will meet the same fate they did."

Blue interrupted the exchange with a curt glare. "I'll ask again, who are you?"

The man shifted his gaze back to Blue, who had to fight the cold shudder that ran down his spine. "I am the prophet who beckons forth the end of times. I am humanity's shepherd through our salvation. I am the true King of Kanto, Lord Giovanni Sakai of Viridian."

"That's impossible," Blue burst out.

He shrugged. "Who is there to contest my new station? You?" He sized up the young king, sneering down his nose at him. "You are but a child."

Blue glanced at his pokemon, knowing that their teams were outmatched against the army of sellswords. "You will not posess this Orb," he started, drawing a furious sneer from Lord Sakai. "Not so long as there is breath left in my lungs. You will not terrorize this nation, not as long as the blood of the Oak kings run through my veins." He gripped his blade a little tighter and raised his head with all the strength and dignity he could muster in the darkness.

"Perhaps I'll simply have to take it off your corpse?" he started. "Or maybe you've hidden it somewhere in Pewter? Once we're done here, Lord Brock could give me a tour of his keep."

Brock tightened his grip on his blade. "Over my corpse," he stated flatly.

"That can be arranged, your lordship. I'm sure your head will provide your siblings with all the motivation they need to do as I ask." He cocked his head to the side, smiling with all the malice an animal toying with his prey.

"You stand on my land and you dare speak to me like this?" Brock spat rhetorically. "You insolent little-"

The darkness returned, silencing Brock with its suddenness. Sakai's voice deepened and boomed out over them, seeming to come from everywhere at once. "Stay your tongue, child. Or I shall tear it out." He stepped out of the darkness that had swallowed him, his blade raised threateningly. "Now give me the Orb!"

Blue hardened his resolve, refusing to allow the man the satisfaction of spreading the fear that he clearly wanted. "No," he said. The darkness raged and swirled around the sellsword, but Blue would not be deterred. He raised his own blade into a fighting stance, catching Red mimic him a moment later.

He moved silently and effortlessly in the black. Lord Sakai swung his black blade horizontally in a quick attempt to end the fight before it began. Blue's blade met his with a resounding clash in the dark. Blue grunted in effort as the warlord forced him back with the strength of his swing. He ducked under a quick follow up slash and backed away desperately as Red swore and came to his rescue.

Red attempted a quick thrust while the sellsword was distracted, but only found open air. Char leapt into action, spewing flames at the warlord. Lord Sakai simply melted away into the darkness, leaving Red flailing at nothing but the dark. He turned, expecting a retaliating strike to bite into his back but found none.

A deafening roar split the night and the rhydon lowered itself and charged them. Shale shot forward, pivoting on one of the boulders that made up her body and swinging her bladed tail like a club. The rhydon's head cracked to the side and it screeched in pain. A torrent of water slammed into the rhydon and bowled the massive rock type to the ground. Without waiting for an order, Shale surged forward and coiled around the rhydon. She grunted in effort as the rhydon struggled to its feet, lifting the gargantuan rock serpent and straining against the onix's binds. Blue's blastoise stalked around the rhydon, patiently waiting for a clear shot at the beast.

The persian leapt from the darkness, surprising Red with its appearance. She raked his shield with her claws, nearly tearing it from Red's grip and wrenching violently on his shoulder.

Pika leapt off his shoulder and loosed a bolt of lightning that met only empty air as the big cat sank back into the darkness. Char snarled and stomped after the persian in defiance of Red's frantic orders, spitting glowing embers at the retreating pokemon's form.

Blue saw it half a moment too late. Even as Lord Sakai's persian disappeared into the dark, the shadows swirling patterns shifted slightly, making way for the warlord to step out of nothingness behind their formation. He screamed desperately and reached out, even though he knew that by the time his warning left his lips it would be too late.

Brock cried out in pain as the sellsword's midnight blade ran him through from behind. He slumped back and dropped his blade into the dirt. His hands found the blade sprouting from his chest as his breaths grew ragged. "Blue," he started, his eyes filling with fear as his body began to shut down. "Run."

Lord Sakai stepped back and tore his black blade free with a bloody flourish. Brock collapsed, clutching at his chest. "I warned you," he stated flatly. "I told you what I wanted and still you chose to defy me. These are the consequences." He shrugged and nonchalantly wiped his bloody blade on his pantleg. "I give you one last chance to relinquish the Orb to me, else he dies next." He gestured at Red with his blade, who responded with a hard stare.

"Never," Blue stated.

Lord Sakai disappeared into the darkness, leaving only the cold echo of his laugh behind. "We shall see," his voice echoed.

Blue knelt beside Brock, gently taking his hand. "Brock," he started. "What do I do?"

The older boy coughed, splattering the ground with blood. "Run," he croaked. His breaths grew ragged and more blood spluttered up from his lips. His hand fell away as the last of the Lord of Pewter's strength left his body.

Blue looked up, his eyes threatening to fill with tears. Red was spinning, his blade rising up to meet Sakai's black bastard sword. The sound seemed to fade from the world, and Blue saw clearly through the darkness for the first time.

The world seemed to freeze in a terrifying tableau as Blue finally managed to pierce the darkness. Red's remaining pokemon were harrying the persian with all they had, but the cat was faster than they were able to track in the darkness. She struck from the darkness, tearing a gash in Char's scales. Pika drove the persian back again with a bolt of lightning that lit the night and nearly impaled her.

Shale was losing her battle with the rhydon, slowly losing leverage to the stronger pokemon as it slipped an arm free of the onix's crushing grip. The rhydon's claws shone brightly as a metallic sheen hardened over them. The metal claw tore a terrible rend in the onix's stone hide, spilling slick black blood from the wound. His blastoise grunted an angry warning as he lowered his cannons to fire.

Blue rose to his feet, watching as Red barely managed to deflect Sakai's blade into the dirt. He watched as the warlord stepped back and allowed the darkness to disguise his movement. Red flailed at where Sakai had been again, finding only empty air. He circled Red and raised his blade to strike a killing blow.

Blue moved faster than should have been possible. The shadows seemed to stretch and the world reshaped around him as he threw himself in front of the blow. He stepped out of Red's shadow just in time, darkness warping and twisting around him. His shield met the black blade with a clash and batted it to the side.

Lord Sakai stepped back in stunned silence. The darkness seemed to abate some and the pale light of the moon illuminated the battlefield. "Impossible," he stated. "I was to be the only one…"

Blue sagged with exhaustion as his muscles screamed in effort. He tightened his grip on his blade and gritted his teeth. "No more," he stated calmly.

Lord Sakai grinned maliciously as the darkness pressed into the edges of Blue's vision. "On your head be it." The darkness surged back around them and plunged them into inky black night.

* * *

The wind whistled in her ears as Seraph laboured into the night's sky. The unnatural darkness abated finally and she drew in a breath of relief. The night had been relatively cloudless and the moon bathed her in soft, pale light. She peered down at the ground, trying desperately to make out any form in the darkness.

A flash of lightning, followed by a burst of roaring flame lit the ground for a half a breath, but it was enough. The lightning illuminated the massive form of an onix charging the same rhydon that had run down the survivors of the guard. A blastoise stalked towards them, waiting for an opening as the two titans wrestled for dominance.

Another blast of lightning ripped across the battlefield, lighting up the trio of fighters trapped in the darkness. She swore, recognizing the pokemon gathered around them. She leaned forward and patted Seraph's neck affectionately. "Sorry girl, but we have to go back down there."

Her pidgeot cocked her head to look at her and angrily squawked a protest.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Well who else is gonna save them?"

She could have sworn that Seraph rolled her eyes in response.

Nox emerged from her shadow, giggling in anticipation. He pointed down at the battle excitedly, eager to get the drop on the man who hunted in the dark.

Leaf pulled her bow off her back, nocking one of her last three arrows. She pulled the bow to full draw as Nox merged with her arrow. "Save as many as you can," she whispered.

Nox's mental reply echoed across their bond as she loosed the arrow. The arrow had hardly left her bow before Seraph tucked her wings against her side and dropped into a steep drive. They dropped through the night, disappearing in the suffocating darkness. She held on for dear life as her mount dropped like a rock, accelerating faster than she had ever dared to in the past. Her vision swam and a crushing weight pressed down on her chest.

She closed her eyes, finally immersing herself in her bond with Nox. The crushing weight on her chest lifted as the colour faded from her skin. Streams of smoky blackness peeled off her limbs, leaving a thin trail of black smoke streaming out behind her.

Leaf opened her eyes as she passed into the unforgiving blackness. Nox was laughing uncontrollably, his infectious laugh echoing incessantly in her ears. She forced his feelings away, her eyes trained on the barest glimpses of the battle below. She would not, could not allow Nox to take her focus off her friends, not if she had any hope of saving them.

After what felt like an eternity, Seraph screamed and flared her wings. Leaf leapt off the back of her bird of prey just as her arrow found its mark. Guided by a ghost with a sadistic sense of humour, it buried itself in the eye of the massive rhydon with uncanny accuracy. She landed on one knee, the chilling demonic laugh of her gengar echoing from her lips.

Nox tore his way free of the rhydon's face, still giggling madly. The beast shrieked in pain as it clutched at its ruined face with its free hand. Shale seized upon the opening and crushed her binds tighter, pinning the rhydon's free arm back against its body. She raised her head as the beast struggled, choking and retching as Shale squeezed the life out of it.

Leaf rose to her feet, smoky tendrils of darkness curling off her body. She smirked and nocked her second last arrow. "Forget about something?" she asked mockingly.

Lord Sakai's lips drew back into a sneer. "You came back, deathling." He raised his midnight blade as a storm of pure darkness gathered above. "That will be your undoing."

The smug smirk never left her face. "Nightmare," she ordered, refusing to engage with the sellsword's game of taunts and threats.

Nox sailed over the battle with a bone-chilling laugh. He landed behind Leaf and swelled up to twice her size. His eyes shone with sickly purple light, mirroring Leaf's glowing gaze.

Screams of terror erupted from the darkness. With the pitch black night, all the sellswords' eyes had been drawn to the only points of light. The darkness that had worked to make their assault so sudden and deadly, was now turned back on themselves as the gengar and his master conjured deadly illusions in the night.

Leaf turned to face her friends as chaos erupted from the sellswords' ranks. Her cheeks were gaunt and hollow, her eyes sunken back into her head with deep grey bags under them. "Run," she hissed as her eyes faded from sickly purple to their usual striking green. "This won't hold them for long."

Blue raised his hand to his lips, whistling for Wrath. The fearow swooped down from above, drawn by her master's call. She had been waiting above the darkness, watching and listening for any order. She flared her wings and landed at Blue's side. "Red!" he shouted over the carnage. He raised an arm, returning his blastoise and scythe before the opportunity disappeared. "Time to go!"

Red returned Char without a question, already wheeling around to make for Blue as his pikachu leapt onto his shoulder. Wrath took off in a panic, flapping her wings madly as Blue shouted a wordless cry of warning. His eyes widened as he skidded to a halt, doubling over to cover Pika with his body.

The earth shook and a titanic stone serpent slammed into the ground mere meters from them. The rhydon barrelled down on her, his horn lowered. The beast's good eye was jammed shut, avoiding Nox's mental assault. He gored Shale with his horn and lifted the bleeding onix into the air. His claws hardened over with a metallic sheen and dug into Shale's sides, drawing an agonizing shriek.

Red watched in horror as the rhydon grunted with effort. It pulled its arms to the side and tore the pride of Pewter in half. Two writhing halves of a dying pokemon slammed into the dirt, showering Red with rubble, debris and slick black blood. He stepped back in horror as the rhydon opened its good eye and found him with its gaze.

The beast bellowed and took a furious step forward, raising his foot to crush the boy and his pikachu. Thick vines wrapped around the beast, holding it in place for a fraction of a second. It was enough. Leaf tackled Red from the side, taking them both tumbling in the dirt to safety.

"I said to run," Leaf said, panting heavily. "What the hell are you thinking?"

Red scrambled to his feet, already turning to face the rhydon. "Not my fault! There's an angry pokemon in the way."

The rhydon turned and growled at Saur, shredding the vines wrapping around its leg with an iron claw. The ivysaur roared a baritone response, already pelting the massive rock type with a hail of hardened leaves. It shrugged off the grass-type's assault with ease and charged towards the ivysaur.

Leaf whistled three short blasts that cut clearly through the chaos. Saur extended his vines again, using them to throw himself out of the rhydon's murderous path before the beast could react. New screams of pain erupted in the dark as the rhydon plowed through the sellsword's ranks and skidded to a bloody halt.

She raised an arm, recalling Saur to his ball. Seraph swooped down from the dark, landing in a haphazard rush. Leaf swung one leg over her bird and reached out for Red. He mounted Seraph behind her and she dug her heels into the pidgeot's side. They shot off into the dark as Seraph raced into the night's sky.

Red closed his eyes and pressed into Leaf from behind. "Thank you," he shouted over the wind. "We would have died, not a minute later if you hadn't shown up."

She didn't answer immediately. "Yeah," she said in an irritated tone. "What else was I supposed to do?"

Red didn't press any further, unwilling to push a sensitive topic at the moment. He settled into Seraph's rhythmic flapping and simply held on tight to his saviour.

* * *

Golbat were fast, and over short distances could keep pace with birds of prey like fearow and pidgeot. But over long distances, the greater stamina of the birds would always win out. And with the head start that they'd had, the golbat had never had a chance to catch up.

They'd fled into the foothills of Mount Moon, leaving Pewter far behind them. Dozens of leagues melted away in the night as the two birds put as much distance between them and the battle as they could. They'd simply ran, with no plan other than escape from the terrifying blackness.

Blue dismounted Wrath upon landing, patting his fearow appreciatively on the side of her neck. They'd landed under an outcropping of rock that jutted from the side of the mountain and provided a small amount of cover from the air. She shook her feathers out happily and bowed her head to nudge Blue with her beak. He smiled and patted the side of her beak. "You can hunt soon, I promise."

Seraph landed hard, panting heavily. While pidgeot were usually faster than fearow, Seraph had been carrying a second person. With all that extra weight, she'd struggled to keep pace with Wrath. More than once, Blue had been forced to slow their pace lest he lose them in the night.

"We ought to be far enough east by now," Blue started. "No way they tracked us this far into the mountains. Not without us knowing about it at least."

Leaf slipped off of Seraph after Red, allowing her pidgeot to finally rest. The avian predator squawked gratefully and slumped into the dirt. Leaf sat unceremoniously in the dirt beside her pokemon, closing her eyes and laying blissfully still as exhaustion wracked her body.

Red looked at Blue, Pika crawling out of his pocket against Red's chest. "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know," Blue replied. "I've never seen anything like that."

"I have," Leaf croaked. She forced herself to sit up, propping herself up against Seraph's exhausted form. "Or rather, I've heard of it before. But only in legends."

The two boys looked at her in stunned silence. They both turned, their full attention on the young medium. Her skin had regained some of the colour it had lost during the battle, but her face was still gaunt and her eyes still had dark grey bags underneath.

She pushed herself up further, leaning forward and cradling her head in her hands. "Lavender has legends, older even than the first empire. Older than anyone with living memory could possibly hold on to."

"One of the perks of communing with the dead," Blue remarked. "They know things the living don't."

She raised an eyebrow at the interruption, but otherwise continued unperturbed. "Our oldest legends come from the dark times, when humanity scrabbled for our place in an untamed world. We offered the shades that terrorized Eastern Kanto a pact of unity, offering them ourselves in return for their partnership. They accepted and the first of the _Magi_, what you now call mediums, were born. It was the first of its kind in the world, and would not be replicated until the Wataru clan of Blackthorn bonded with the dragons in their mountains. They feared nothing, not the dragons, not the fae, not even some of the lesser gods themselves. Ghosts were truly fearless, for they could not die. They were fast and strong. They were perfect partners for hunters like us." She sighed and stood up, her eyes glowing a soft purple.

Nox appeared over her shoulder, giggling at the boys as Leaf continued her story. "Then something happened. The darkness that our people were used to hunting in became different. Something changed, and for the first time since our people formed their pact with the ghosts, we felt their fear. One by one, our villages would disappear in the night. Travellers would go missing, with no trace to be found." She shuddered as a chill ran down her spine, whether caused by her fear or Nox's she couldn't say. "We called them reapers. They came from the night, turning our greatest strengths against ourselves. They hunted us for a generation, before they disappeared from Kanto abruptly."

Red leaned back and massaged his eyeballs. "So that's what this 'Lord Sakai' is? A reaper?" He looked up from his hand and met Leaf's gaze. "How did they disappear last time? And why would one reappear right now?"

She shrugged. "I don't know why they disappeared. I don't think anyone does. The legends never say why they disappeared, just that the darkness receded and we reclaimed the night just before we founded the first empire."

"That can't be a coincidence," Blue said. "As soon as the only force that struck fear into ghosts disappear, they found an empire?"

Again she shrugged. "Like I said, I don't know. The details were lost to legend. Perhaps there are some who might know more, but…" She looked away in embarrassment. "I ran before my training was complete. Someone in Lavender might know, but that doesn't help us right now."

Blue swore and turned away. "Is there anything else that might help? Any clue as to why Sakai might have appeared right now? This can't be coincidence. Lance sacks Viridian alone, now a sellsword runs roughshod over Pewter… Lance has to be in on this too, or it would have been the Johtan army knocking on Pewter's gates right now."

"There is something else, though I've no idea how they're related." She reached into her pack and pulled out a small burlap sack. Pale white light shone from the bag, forcing the boys to cover their eyes. Leaf reached into the sack and lifted the glowing white orb from the sack. "Your grandfather told me to take this, and give it to only you."

Blue reached out and took the glowing orb. It was impossibly light, as if it weighed nothing at all. It felt cold to the touch, as though he were holding a perfect circle of ice. "He wanted this," Blue started. "He kept demanding that I give him an orb. I had no clue what he meant…" His voice trailed off and he fought back the tears. "He killed Brock for this, before he even knew if we had it."

He turned his head in the direction they had come from. He wasn't sure, but he thought he could faintly see orange light glowing on the horizon where Pewter should have been. The weight of crushing guilt crashed down on Blue. He had abandoned those people when they fled. Sakai was going to butcher the city and they would never know what was coming.

"What is it?" Red asked, breaking Blue's trance. "It looks important."

"It is," Blue replied, shaking off the doubt in his mind. He could not afford to question himself if he was to be King. Kings did not have the luxury of doubt. "This is the Ice Orb, a sacred object said to hold the essence of the God of Snow, Articuno. Legends say that Articuno bestowed the orb upon its champion, to call upon the god in their hour of need. It was supposed to have been lost at sea in the Orange Islands, when the holy raptors clashed with Lugia and reshaped Orange into an archipelago…" He looked up at Leaf in confusion. "Why would gramps have this?"

She shrugged again. "I don't know. He gave it to me just before the evacuation. Said that when the time came, you would know what to do with it." She handed him the burlap sack. "Best keep it hidden until you need it. Sakai wants it and I can't imagine that being a good thing."

He nodded and put the orb back into the sack. "Brock died for this thing," he started. "Pewter will burn for it."

"So did the last of the guard, though they did not know it," Leaf interjected. "They fought bravely, even though they knew their fates were sealed." She paused for a moment, unsure of how to process the roiling emotions in her chest. "Be proud of them," she continued after a pause. "They did their duty until the last."

Blue bowed his head. "Thank you," he said.

"Don't," she answered. "I let them die alone. They deserved better. They fought and died so that the few citizens of Viridian that survived the march through the forest could have just a half a chance more of escaping."

Blue turned to look at Red, his vision swimming with tears. His people were well and truly gone. His sister was gone. "Make camp," he ordered, turning to Red as he wiped away the tears. "Get us a fire going, and something to eat before we all pass out." He turned to look at Leaf as Red began to get to work. "Tell me what happened. Tell me everything."

* * *

_Faster than normal for this chapter as well! Cookies for anyone who can piece together where this is all going!_

_And a reply to Bignonymous - In terms of world depth, that's something that I'm really intent on fleshing out and expanding. As you might have noticed, things have been at a bit of a breakneck pace so far and I do intend on slowing things down a bit for a few sections of the story._

_I don't really have any flashback stuff planned, save for a single scene with Red that is more him reliving a memory than flashback. But I'll definitely look at it, maybe as a side project. Leaf-Nox and Lance-Beth come to mind as two pairs that I'd really personally love to expand on. Maybe I'll write an excerpt or two, Lance taming Beth, Leaf bonding with Nox, something like that. I'm open to suggestions if there's anything else people would like to see expanded on._

_I actually have a few scenes coming up with Sakai that have made me want to write in a few interim chapters between major Arcs. I've now drafted a Sakai chapter, as well as a Mira and a Silver chapter as well. These will probably be from these character's perspective and look at events we've seen from a different angle, or show something that happened off-screen. Again, if anyone has any suggestions, please don't hesitate to let me know._

_As always, I hope you enjoyed this! Please don't hesitate to drop me any and all feedback you might have! _


	12. Parting Sorrow

**Arc 3: Tomb of Stone**

**Parting Sorrow**

_A solemn vow. A hidden truth._

* * *

Red grumbled as he adjusted his seating position for the hundredth time. The relatively flat boulder was incredibly uncomfortable, and did nothing to save his legs from falling asleep under him. Finally frustrated by the boredom, he stood up. The sun was slowly creeping towards them as it rose into the sky on the east side of the mountain. Soon enough, it would pass over the peaks of Mount Moon and bathe the entire mountainside in golden sunlight.

Pika squeaked angrily as Red jostled him awake. He yawned and stretched out lazily, looking up at his trainer with annoyance. His cheeks sparked threateningly as he shook off the heavy sleep he had been in.

"Don't give me that look," he started. "You slept all night. I've been up on watch all damn night." He turned to look at his sleeping companions and sighed. "Would've been nice." He'd offered to take the whole watch, of course. Both of them had passed out before he'd brought back a half dozen spearow that Pika had knocked out of the sky. He'd skinned and roasted the birds in silence, then let the others go back to sleep.

Pika jumped up onto Red's shoulder, nipping at his ear affectionately. He squeaked and tugged on Red's hair in a playful attempt to get a smile out of his trainer. The day before had been tough for them all, but Red had lost two of his remaining five pokemon. They'd entered the war with a full team of six. Now only Pika, Dodo and Char remained, all scarred like their trainer from the trauma of watching their friends die.

He shook his head and scratched the pikachu behind his ears. "None of that, I'm not in the mood."

Pika huffed and crawled down his shirt, into the interior pocket that Red had sewn for him. He curled up and went silent, leaving Red frightfully alone with his thoughts as the little pikachu went back to sleep. He was stewing, replaying the battle over and over as he looked for any other possible outcomes. Each time, he came to the same conclusion. It was all his fault.

Brock and Blue had recommended caution, to wait until the main body of Pewter's army could arrive as well. He hadn't listened though and because of his stubborn attitude, Free and Prime had paid with their lives. He could still hear the terrible crunch as the arbok crushed his bug, still see those terrifying fangs sinking into Prime's neck further than should have been possible. But all of that paled in comparison to Brock. The noble Lord of Pewter had seemed so invincible to him, so impossibly sure of himself. Lord Sakai had proven that image false with a single thrust of his blade.

"Stop it," Leaf said suddenly.

Red jumped into the air and nearly received an angry shock from Pika. "How can you tell?"

She yawned and got to her feet, dusting herself off from a night of sleeping on the ground. "The ghost," she said in a bored tone. "He could see what you were thinking." The bags under her eyes had faded some, but the colour of her skin was still noticeably more pale than it usually was.

"Did he wake you?" Red asked cautiously.

She shook her head. "No," she said curtly.

They stared at each other awkwardly, neither of them willing to break the silence for an agonizingly long moment. Red swallowed the lump in his throat and looked away. "I never really got the chance to thank you. You saved my life. I thought that I was coming to save yours."

Her expression was an unreadable mask. Her usually happy eyes were devoid of the smile that Red had grown accustomed to, and the lines on her face were hard. "You couldn't have known what would happen," she said, ignoring his gratitude. "Sakai isn't like other men. The human part of him…" She trailed off and looked away. "It's gone."

"Free and Prime are still dead," Red replied. "Brock is still gone." He looked over at Blue and sighed heavily. "I lost my liege the only real support he had. I lost him the only real chance of taking back our home."

She softened for a moment, and Red saw the hurt in her eyes. He wasn't the only one with reason to crack. She hadn't just lost her home. She'd watched the rest of their people fall one by one because she hadn't been able to protect them all. "Brock is not the only lord in Kanto with an army," she said, steeling her resolve. The moment of weakness was gone, replaced by the cold mask she'd been wearing since they'd found her.

He nodded, looking back down at the ground. "No, but he was the only one on our side."

Blue stirred and the both of them fell silent as he sat up. "How long was I out?" he asked wearily. He clutched his head in his hands and groaned in pain. "What happened?"

"I had Nox put us to sleep," Leaf replied. "You needed to rest, lest your insatiable curiosity waste what little time we had to rest."

Blue eyed the gengar warily, watching the ghost fade back into Leaf's shadow. "So, what's the plan then?"

Red looked at Leaf, wiping away the tears that had been threatening to fall. "We were actually just discussing that," he said. "I think we should head for Lavender. If there's anyone alive who knows more about these Reapers, we need to find them."

Blue paused for a moment. "And Brock's plan of uniting Kanto?" he asked, noticeably wincing at the mention of his friend. "Shouldn't we at least consider it?"

Red shrugged noncommittally. "I don't know. It seems kinda futile at this point. Kanto is a tinderbox in a bonfire. The smallest shock will set the entire damn country alight, and Sakai is sure to set it off for his own purposes. We already lost Brock to something we don't even understand. It'd be a better use of our time to learn more about what we're up against before we try to gather an army to fight it."

"At the very least, we should warn Cerulean. It's on the way to Lavender, and stands right in Sakai's path." Leaf lifted her pack over her shoulder and grunted from the effort. "Sakai won't waste too much time in Pewter, not once he realizes that the orb isn't there. He'll make for the only place we could realistically flee to."

"So Cerulean is his next target?" Blue asked. He closed his eyes abruptly and winced in pain.

Red dropped to one knee at his side. "My king?"

A loud pop broke the silence. Red and Leaf drew their blades as they whirled around to face the new arrival. Nox shrieked and laughed as he emerged from Leaf's shadow with his claws extended.

A young woman hit the ground panting heavily, a psychic wind whipping around her. She held out a hand and stopped Nox in his tracks, freezing him in place. Their weapons were torn from their hands with a gust of unnatural wind, burying into the dirt behind her harmlessly. Her long black hair whipped in the wind as she lowered her arm and locked eyes with Blue. "Do you have any idea just how hard it was to find you?"

* * *

Death was coming. She could feel it in her bones. It was more than just a premonition. Her powers had never failed to show her possible futures, but now they showed her nothing. All she could feel when she attempted to feel into the future was an overwhelming feeling of dread. One that left her feeling hopelessly, desperately alone.

Father had bid her to find the Oak boy, to bring him back safely. He had seen something in a future that had become increasingly clouded, something that had terrified even him. The Oak boy had been central to that future. So he had dispatched his daughter, his most trusted lieutenant in all of Saffron, to bring the boy to him. Even if she had been cut out of her rightful inheritance by virtue of her gender, she was still without compare among Saffron's psychics.

She cast her mind out again, stretching to the very edge of her limits. She could feel every living being's mind brush against her consciousness, every bright point of light flickering in response to her touch. The vast amount of information rushing through her mind would have crippled lesser men. She was no lesser man. Yet still, the Oak boy evaded her.

She'd arrived in Viridian to find it a crumbling ruin. The skeletal remains of a few scattered buildings still smouldered and an eerie wind whistled through the bones of the crumbling keep. A few ratatta fled upon her arrival, but the city was otherwise empty. She'd moved on, teleporting north of the city and following the tracks left by a large group of apparent survivors. She continued like that for several days, finding only a scattered few peasants hiding in the woods. Their minds contained no useful information, so she left them to their fates rather than reveal herself to them.

It wasn't until she reached the edge of Viridian Forest that she had any inkling something was wrong. She cast her mind out as usual, but found nothing. None of the vibrant points of light that usually made up her mindscape were visible. It was as though someone had pulled a thick cloth over her mind's eye and blinded it completely. She teleported away without waiting for a reason, moving to the outskirts of Pewter in the hopes that perhaps Lord Brock could direct her towards the young Oak.

Pewter was silent. None of the Saffron's acolytes residing there had answered her calls and now she understood why. The severed head of a massive onix lay on the cobblestone path to the gates, dragged there either as a warning or a threat. It did not matter the reason and she decided not to dwell on it. The city was quiet, save for a few faint flickers of life deep in the mines beneath the city. She teleported away again, leaving the silent city behind.

That had led her here, deep into the foothills of Mount Moon. The veil that had hidden her vision had not spread this far to the east, marking a blessed return to her usual capabilities. She rejoiced in the sensation and breathed a definite sigh of relief. Then she found it. There was a small patch of the mountain that seemed hidden from her sight, but she could faintly sense the vibrant lights of human minds beneath the veil. She closed her eyes and winked out of sight with a loud pop.

* * *

Blue doubled over, clutching at his head. Sudden pain erupted in his mind and he felt a foreign presence brush against his consciousness. He felt a vague sense of recognition from the presence before it withdrew suddenly.

"My king?" asked Red cautiously.

A loud pop from behind Red tore the attention away from Blue. The newcomer reached out and froze Nox in place with a thought. Psychic wind tore their weapons from their hands and buried them into the dirt. She locked eyes with him and smirked with smug satisfaction. "Do you have any idea just how hard it was to find you?"

"Lady Natsume?" he asked incredulously. He stiffened his posture and bowed his head in respect for the noble woman.

She bowed her head slightly, her piercing eyes never leaving his. She was dressed in form-fitting leather armour that left very little to the imagination, a far cry from the flowing kimono that he had last seen her in. Her hair billowed out around her in the fading psychic wind as she folded her arms across her chest. "In the flesh, though please just call me Sabrina. I am not a lady." she replied. "I've been sent to collect you and return you safely to Saffron City. My lord father could no longer sense the Oak's presence in Viridian and grew worried. It appears he had good reason to be."

"Viridian fell to the dragon. Lance burned it for the crime of defiance." Blue sighed and looked down to the ground. "We had meant to shelter in Pewter, but…" his voice trailed off, thinking of Brock's death.

"I feared the worst when I discovered Pewter as well, that you had been killed."

"What happened to Pewter?" Red asked, interrupting the conversation.

Sabrina turned and Blue caught a mournful look. "The city stands silent. The lights had been extinguished. I did not tarry to discern the reason, for fear of falling victim to it as well."

"A smart choice," Blue said. He turned to look at Red and Leaf a look of stern concentration overtaking him. He lifted his pack and slung it over his back. "We should get moving. If Pewter has fallen then we have even less time than we'd hoped."

Sabrina coughed, interrupting him. "I apologize, but as I said I've come to collect you. Your presence is required by my Lord Father in Saffron."

Blue paused for a moment. "Might I ask why?" he asked. "I cannot leave my companions, not when our situation is so fraught. We had planned to travel to Lavender, by way of Cerulean so as to rally her strength to our cause."

"A noble cause," she replied. Her eyes glowed a soft purple and Nox growled in response. "However, my Lord-Father's summons were not a request. The realm burns and you are at the centre of it all. You will accompany me." She reached out and grabbed his arm suddenly. They disappeared into nothing with a loud pop as Red and Leaf both screamed incoherent cries.

Blue opened his mouth to shout but had the wind torn from his lungs. His eyes felt like they would be sucked from his head as dancing patterns of swirling light flashed around him. A crushing weight pressed down on his chest, constricting his breathing as he gasped for air.

It was over as quickly as it had begun. The ground appeared beneath his feet and he stumbled as the world span around him. He crashed to the ground, his lungs gasping for air as his head spun mercilessly. Without warning, his stomach heaved and the meagre contents of his stomach were emptied onto the rough-hewn cobblestone.

"Welcome to Saffron City," Sabrina said with a soft chuckle. "This is as far as we can travel by teleport, we must go the rest on foot."

Blue looked up and his eyes widened. The bustling activity of Saffron's city square rushed around them like their arrival had meant nothing. Merchants hawked their wares as smallfolk milled about the markets lining the square. More arrivals teleported in, casting scowling glances at the boy on the ground.

It was a place without war, something that struck Blue immediately. The guards around the square were few and far in between. What few there were, were no more than paltry city guardsmen who were equipped with barely functional armour. The war had truly yet to arrive here and it showed plainly on the faces of the smallfolk as well. They were happy and smiling, laughing and talking like they had no worries in the world save for their next meals.

"Take me back," he commanded as his attention turned back to his captor. "My friends need me."

"Your friends have a different path," Sabrina replied with a knowing smile. She hauled him to his feet with a thought, psychic force roughly lifting him up. "You must speak with my Lord-Father. He will explain further."

"You're the one who captured me. Why can't you explain?"

She turned to look at him, her eyes flaring purple with psychic power. "Because I can't see the future anymore. None of us can. You're the only part of the future that we can see. That is why you are here, King Blue Oak of Viridian. Because we want to know why you're the only future we see." She turned away and began to walk towards the towering keep looming over the city. "Now come, your arrival is expected."

He watched her walk for a moment. She had effortlessly captured him and spirited him halfway across the realm in a few moments. As much as he wanted to run for his freedom, without a psychic of his own to outrun her he would never stand a chance at escape. Begrudgingly, he started after her. It wasn't as if he had a choice in the matter.

* * *

Red stared in stunned silence at the place Blue had been. Just like that, they were gone. They'd disappeared into nothing, leaving him and Leaf standing in an awkward silence.

She turned to him finally, after what seemed like an eternity in silence. "What do we do now?" she asked in a resigned tone. Defeat was clearly worn in her body language.

Red frowned, not knowing if there even was a right answer. "I don't know," he said softly. "But we can't stay here. You heard her, Pewter has fallen. Sakai is gonna be on our trail soon enough and we still don't know how to stop him." He paused for a moment, deep in thought. "You should go to Lavender. You can move faster alone than with me, and speed is of the essence right now."

"No," she said flatly. "We can't split up. You won't stand a chance if Sakai finds you."

He shook his head. "We won't stand a chance even if we are together. I don't like it either, but we have to be realistic. Our best shot at taking Sakai down is with whatever we can find in Lavender. If we continue like this, we'll barely make Cerulean before Sakai is breathing down our necks."

"So your plan is for you to barely make it to Cerulean yourself while I search through records stretching back thousands of years?" She shook her head. "No, that's not happening. I won't let-"

He stopped her with a kiss that silenced her worrying. She pressed back into him, years of tension between the two melting away in a brief moment. They were as one, tightly held together in shared embrace for a moment of stolen bliss.

As quickly as it had come, the kiss was over. They separated, staring at each other calmly. She broke the silence first as she cleared her throat. "How long have you waited to do that?" she asked softly, her voice threatening to break.

"Since Viridian," he replied. "I thought you were gone, and I felt more alone than I ever had before. I was just wishing that I had one more chance to make it right." He paused for a second, choking up. "One more chance to let you know."

She smiled at that. "Red," she started. "I always knew. I knew from the moment you opened your home to me."

He chuckled. "To be fair, that was mother's idea. She couldn't stand the idea of an orphan girl alone in the city." His cheeks went red and he smiled happily. "Though I was not going to protest it."

She smiled back and pulled him into a hug. "Thank you, Red," she whispered. "I needed that."

They separated and stood in an awkward silence. He stepped back sheepishly, his cheeks still glowing red. "Be careful," he said. "Don't let that be the last one."

"Tell that to yourself," Leaf said. "No more heroics until I get back. I don't want to find out you went and got yourself killed right after something like that."

"I won't," he replied. "Now get going, before something bad shows up."

She stepped back, her hand diving into her pack. She pulled out Saur's ball, fighting back tears. "Take him," she said, her voice wavering. "I won't be able to let him out in Lavender and you'll need all the help you can get."

"Leaf," he started, taking the ball from her. "Are you sure?"

She nodded and stepped away. "Don't die," she said softly. She released Seraph from her ball and mounted the bird, looking back at Red. "You don't get to die after that."

He smiled and put a hand on her leg. "Go find us a way to beat this bastard."

"I will," she replied. She looked at the sky as the sun crested the peak and bathed their campsite in morning light. She dug in her heels and Seraph took off into the sky.

Red blocked out the sun with a hand as he watched her go. Tears fell freely, though he knew it was for the best. He stood there until the tiny speck in the distance crossed behind the peak of Mount Moon and disappeared.

Pika squeaked inside his chest pocket and clambered up onto his shoulder. He smiled despite himself and ruffled his pikachu's ears. "That actually went better than I thought it would," Red said. "Minus her going off to find some ancient secret that might save all our lives." He looked at Pika sheepishly. "I didn't really plan on that part."

Pika yawned and shook off the last of his sleep. He curled into Red's neck and nuzzled into his cheek happily.

"Feeling better now, are you?" Red asked. He chuckled to himself and started off up the mountain, beginning his long journey on foot to Cerulean. Red pocketed Saur's ball with a smile, knowing that he would see Leaf again. That was a promise he was sure to keep.

* * *

The doors to Saffron's great hall swung open seemingly on their own. No servants or attendants lined the hall, leaving the massive room feeling empty. The scent of incense hung heavy in the air as smoke billowed out from a trio of braziers at the end of the hall. A massive man sat lazily in the chair at the ned of the hall, regarding Blue with a focused gaze.

Blue stepped out from behind Sabrina, his eyes locked on the obese man in the chair. He had to be Sabrina's father, the Lord Natsume. Blue stood straight as a board and drew himself up to his full height. "Lord Natsume, I demand to know the meaning-"

_"Silence, child," _a lilting, musical voice said in his mind. _"You presume much to address me as such, fledgling." _His attention turned to Sabrina, and Blue caught the curt nod from the woman. She turned from the room, sparing an unreadable glance at Blue. Blue felt the man's presence return and fought back the urge to wince at the intrusion to his mind. _"So, you are the last of the Oak line?"_ The man asked. _"My condolences. Admittedly, though our families had feuded in the past, I am sorry to see them gone. The Oaks were one of Kanto's best hopes in this coming conflict."_

"I'm afraid I don't follow," Blue said. He crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side. "Our families have never feuded, at least not to my knowledge."

_"Ah, the secrets kept by your grandfather would astound you, child. One would think that the last of his house might know more. Alas, it cannot be helped. You must be educated."_ The man and his chair lifted off the ground, floating towards one side of the great hall. _"Walk with me, child."_

Blue followed reluctantly. He sidled up beside Lord Natsume, looking up at the tapestry they stood in front of. "What is this?" he asked. "A trick?"

_"No such thing, child. Merely a record of history as recorded by our ancestors at the dawn of time."_ He looked away from Blue, pointing up at a familiar sigil. Blue looked closer, only to realize that the sigil was an Oak tree. _"The Oaks were once members of this house, before the dark times came."_

Blue followed down the tapestry, watching as the magnificent artwork descended into complete darkness. Only a few bright specks of flame lit the central part of the tapestry, before the darkness receded and Saffron's sigil sat brightly displayed. "We were members of the same house?"

_"Possessing all the same talent for psychic power as us. The Oaks were thought lost to the thousand year darkness. However, they prospered during the darkness. They built Viridian City as a shining beacon in the night. They thrived in the darkness, where we floundered." _He pointed again, to the flaming eye of Saffron. _"We fought to bring the fledgling house back under our thrall. But our power had waned where yours grew. The war ended in a bitter stalemate, with Viridian standing free of Saffron's power."_

Blue studied the tapestry intently. "I never knew," he said. "Father always just said that our house founded Viridian after being cast out of our ancestral homes. He never said anything about Saffron."

_"Because it is ancient history. A secret lost to the ages for most."_

"But not for you," Blue said. "Thanks to this tapestry."

_"Correct. The House of Natsume gathered what strength we had and peered into the veil of the future. We foresaw the rise of the First Empire, and its fall. We saw the Oak Kings of old take the throne of Kanto when the Ghosts first fell. We saw the Second Empire, and the dragon that would tear down the Ghost Queen."_

Blue traced the history down the tapestry, finding each event as Lord Natsume pointed them out. He reached the bottom and found the same creeping darkness as before. However, in the darkness stood the Oak sigil, burning with the same fire that Saffron's did. "What does it mean?" he asked, turning to look at Lord Natsume.

_"I do not know. The future is clouded beyond even my sight."_ He leaned closer in his chair, looming over Blue. _"However, the darkness is returning and you are the only person I can see through the fog that clouds the future. I want to know why."_

Blue crossed his arms and stepped back from the tapestry. "As would I."

Lord Natsume sat back and clapped twice. A door off the side of the great hall opened and Sabrina stepped through. _"Then it is decided. You will train your mind until you can pierce the fog yourself. Perhaps you will be able to decipher what we cannot."_ He nodded towards Sabrina and began to float back towards his place at the head of the hall. _"My daughter shall train you. Do not disappoint me, child."_

"You can't keep me here," Blue said. "I am needed with my companions. They need my-"

Sabrina silenced him with a withering glare as she approached. "You are needed here. You require training."

He fell silent, knowing that he had little chance of forcing his freedom at the moment. "And my friends?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I can show you their paths, but not their destination. This path is your own."

He was silent for a long moment, the only noise in the hall the crackling of the flames in the braziers. He looked up at Sabrina and sighed heavily. "We'd best get to it then."

"Excellent," she replied. Her eyes flared with colour and he suddenly felt exceedingly tired. Exhaustion washed over him as he stared into her eyes. _"Let's begin."_

* * *

_Shorter than I wanted for an end of an arc, but what can ya do? _

_Parting is such sweet sorrow. I sincerely do hope than nothing happens to our heroes before they can reunite._

_As I said before, the next chapter is an interlude of sorts. It'll follow Sakai's POV and give us a glimpse of the story's endgame. If anyone has any particular requests or ideas for other interludes, please drop me a pm._

_After that, we have a Johto arc with the wrapup of the battle of Tohjo Falls and escalation of the Johtan civil war._

_As always, thanks for reading! Please don't forget to drop me a review or shoot me a PM._


	13. Interlude I

**Interlude I**

**Reaper**

_Darkness rises in the deep. It yearns for thee._

* * *

Sakai knelt over the last kill of the battle, wiping the blood coating his midnight blade on the Pewter Guardsman's tunic. He let the darkness raging around him recede and the flickering light of the hearth returned to the dimly lit cavern. The battle for Pewter had been short and brutal, with his advance forces scaling the walls and taking the main guardhouse before the rest of his army had arrived. The city never had a chance. It had fallen in hours, and burned for it all the while.

He stood up, sheathing his blade. The tides of battle had carried him into the network of tunnels leading into countless mineshafts that burrowed under the city. He'd taken a trio of his sworn swords after Brock's heir, one of his sniveling siblings that knew nothing about the prize he sought from the city. He'd made short work of the boy and his guard after tearing the boy's mind apart in his interrogation. He had not found any trace of the Orb, nor any recollection of the Oak boy. Whoever the child was, he was clearly not trusted with any of Pewter's sensitive information.

Heavy metal boots thudded down one of the tunnels branching off of the small chamber he stood in, heralding more guardsmen. He tensed his grip on his blade and took a step back towards his men. "They come for their lordling," he started. "Let them have him and go if they dare."

James hefted the child over his shoulder and deposited him at his liege's feet. "We're not going to kill them all and be done with it? I thought we wanted to remain in secret until after Cerulean fell?"

Sakai shook his head. "We will never find all the vermin that fled the fall of Pewter. Neither will we stamp out the few peasants that fled Viridian's ruin. Let them flee and spread the word of our coming. There is naught anyone can do except flee before us." He grabbed a fistful of the boy's hair and roughly lifted him to his feet. The boy moaned in pain as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. Sakai felt a twinge of guilt in him as the boy's head limply lolled to the side. He buried the guilt under a stoic façade. "Better to control the knowledge and fear that we sow."

A trio of Pewter Guardsmen stomped into the room, grim expressions on their face. The lead guardsman raised his blade in vain hope as Sakai drew a dagger from his belt and pressed the point into the boy's throat. The guardsman's shortsword was trembling in his hands as the guardsman looked upon Pewter's unresponsive heir. "Let him go," he ordered, his voice shaking.

"Gladly," Sakai responded. He lowered the dagger and pushed the boy towards the guardsmen. He tripped over his own feet and hit the ground hard. "You may flee with your precious lordling, only because I willed it so." He sheathed his dagger, doing nothing to calm the guardsman's shaking nerves. Even unarmed, he was not in any danger from these three and they all knew it. His sworn swords would never allow any harm to come to him while they still lived.

The lead guardsman swallowed the lump in his throat and motioned to his comrades. They crept forward and hauled the boy away from Sakai's merciless gaze. "Why?" the guardsman asked.

Sakai's expression remained emotionless. "Because I want you to spread the word of what happened here. Tell the rest of Kanto what they truly need to fear. Not some toothless dragonkin, but the things that stalk the night. The darkness has returned to claim the birthright that we forsook an eternity ago." He drew his sword for effect as the darkness surged forth at his urging. The hearth dimmed and only his looming silhouette was visible in the dim light.

The guardsmen shrieked and ran, half-dragging the lordling between them as they disappeared into the tunnel. Sakai did not wait to watch them go. The tunnel they had disappeared down led further underground, likely connecting to the mines and the maze of tunnels therein.

One of his sworn swords pulled off her helm, smiling with sadistic pleasure as the guardsmen ran for their lives. She shook out her shoulder length blonde hair and sheathed her own midnight blade, a shortsword that matched his own bastard sword. "We're just gonna let them go?" she asked. "They'd be useful in ensuring the Pewter's loyalty once we move east."

Lord Sakai shook his head. "Rule over this pathetic place is not our goal, Domino. Our prize is something a little more grand than a simple stone throne."

"Yes, boss," she replied. She bowed her head and stepped back into place with Jessie and James behind him. She pulled the black helm back over her head and the group fell back into blessed silence while they waited for the rest of the sworn swords.

Sakai's mind drifted for a few moments to Domino, something he had caught himself doing more than once. She was one of his best warriors, only behind the pair of sworn swords that had accompanied them. She was cunning and savage, with an unrivalled drive for success. If Ariana hadn't coerced him into giving her a child, she would have made a suitable consort. He smirked and hid his face from the trio at his back. Perhaps that could still be arranged once the war was over.

The whelp of Ariana's was cruel and twisted to be sure, but with none of the diligence that he possessed. He was no suitable heir to lead what remained of humanity once he was done. It pained Sakai to call the boy his son, something that he had only done out of reluctance to satisfy Ariana's loyalty to his cause. It would be simple enough to purge the boy and his conniving mother from the ranks once they'd captured his next target.

Heavy footfalls roused him from his thoughts. He banished the notion from his mind as another trio of sworn swords emerged from one of the tunnels connecting to the chamber. The lead man dropped to one knee and bowed his head. He was a massive brute of a man, with an absurdly oversized headsman's axe held in his hands. The axe's midnight blade was stained red, no doubt remnants of Pewter's Vault Guard. "Lord Sakai, the treasure you seek was not in the vault. We find ourselves at a loss for how it could possibly have escaped our grasp."

"Rise, Mask," Sakai replied. The massive man rose to his feet, the spike of hair on top of his head brushing the ceiling. A bronzed mask covered the top half of his face, obscuring a mess of scar tissue that extended down his exposed mouth and disappeared under his blood-soaked beard. "Though it is a disappointment, it is not one of your own volition. The Oak boy must have spirited it away rather than stash the relic here." He turned away and sighed. "It cannot be helped. The relic will be mine with time. We move on the first real target."

The Iron-Masked marauder bowed his head in deference. "To Cerulean, then?"

Lord Sakai couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. "Yes," he started. "Time to bind a god."

* * *

He felt the sun on his face and breathed a silent sigh of relief. Two weeks they had spent under the mountain, scouring it for any sign of his quarry. They'd found nothing but the faint echoes of the god's power. It was not something that worried him, he was far more concerned with the loss of his scouts and outriders. Something or someone had been dogging their every step under the mountain, picking off isolated trainers with an unnatural ease. Not enough to seriously harm their cause, but an unnecessary sap on his limited numbers nonetheless.

He pushed the concern from his mind temporarily, content to enjoy the open air for once after so long in the cramped tunnels under Mount Moon. Cerulean City stood against the water, glittering as the sun set over the peaks of the mountains and cast the rolling hills in golden light. As much as he preferred the darkness, sunsets like this never failed to bring a sense of calm to his mind.

Domino appeared at his side as silent as ever. "Another set of outriders at the rear didn't report in."

"Irrelevant," he replied, looking out at Cerulean with an unreadable expression. "Our quarry is near." He closed his eyes, reaching out into his mindscape. The landscape was impossibly dark, with pinpoints of light marking every single form of life on the black landscape. He ignored the blinding light of the city, shutting out its incandescent glow and focusing his attention on a dull glow from the north. A smaller point of light blazed from a cave on the northern shores of Cape Cerulean, spilling out onto the sandy shore and marking the presence of unmistakeable power.

He opened his eyes, cutting the mindscape off before his quarry could sense it. "I have him," he said with a quiet confidence. He looked off in the direction of the cave and smiled. He had been built for this task, molded for divine purpose by the darkness that he so wholly embraced. The mountain of dead at his back had all led to this moment. He would bind a god to his will and become the most powerful man in existence. Then he would be free to truly reshape the world to his desire.

"Your orders, sir?" Domino asked cautiously. She was in the dark, like the rest of his men. Only Ariana and Archer truly knew of his plans and Archer had taken the knowledge to the grave at Tohjo Falls. As sure as he was about Domino's loyalty, everything was in question until proven.

He turned to look at her with a twinkle in his eye. "Gather my sworn swords. We ride for Cape Cerulean."

She turned and raised an eyebrow. "And the city?"

"We'll sink it to the bottom of the bay before the fortnight is out." He looked away from her with a longing expression. "And the world shall be mine."

* * *

He slipped off Tetsudo's back, patting the rhydon's haunches and returning the colossal rock monster to his ball. His sworn swords all dismounted their pokemon after him, looking around at the empty beach. The sand backed directly onto a sheer cliff wall that stretched dozens of feet in the air. Gentle waves lapped at the shore, bringing a serene calm to the beach.

Sakai turned away from the water and drew his blade. The midnight sword drank in the sunlight, dimming the beach noticeably with its presence. He raised the blade in both his hands and plunged it into the face of the cliff.

Darkness spread from the blade, corrupting the stone face of the wall. The cliff bulged and warped before a flash of bright violet light split the wall in twain. The illusion shattered and disappeared as the shadows receded back into his blade.

Sakai turned to address his men and felt a swell of pride in his chest. They had come so far, paved the road before them with the blood of their enemies. All of that would pale in comparison to the foe that they would confront today. "I will not lie to you any longer. You have all proven yourselves worthy and loyal to my cause." He sheathed his blade and crossed his arms. "I heard the whispers of discontent when we bound ourselves to Lance. I heard that some of those who joined our cause would not have done so under the banner of the dragon. Today we will throw off the false chains of the dragonkin. Today, we become legends."

He pointed into the cave his voice brimming with fire and intensity. "This is the lair of a sleeping god. Mewtwo, God of Vengeance waits for us. He will fight harder, fiercer than any being we have faced before."

Domino stepped forward, interrupting him. "We here to kill it, ser?" Her face was a stoic mask of determination.

"An admirable sentiment, as if we could truly hope to kill a god." He motioned to the Iron Masked Marauder, who had hefted a massive chest from the cart his tyranitar had been pulling. The Marauder dropped it at his feet heavily and flipped the lid open. The sun dimmed to near-blackness as the armour in the chest devoured the light. "This armour will protect you from most of Mewtwo's powers. It will not prevent him from killing you, merely stop him from cooking your minds in his presence. Do not underestimate him as he will use any means available to fight back."

As one, the twelve sworn swords silently dove into the chest and began donning the armour within. Domino was the first to finish and she turned to face him, lifting up a piece of the last suit of midnight armour. It was thinner than any of theirs' at the waist, with overlapping black plates that flowed down into a flanged tail. "This won't fit any of us, who's it for?"

Sakai lifted the helm out of the chest, studying it for a long moment."Mewtwo," he replied. "It was forged from the metal carapace of a bisharp, a strange dark creature from Unova. It should block out Mewtwo's powers, if we can manage to force the armour onto the beast." He tossed the helmet to the Marauder and lifted the chestpiece out of Domino's hands. He could feel the darkness flowing through the armour as if it were an extension of his own body. "If my theory is correct, I should be able to use the armour as a catalyst to amplify my own power and force Mewtwo to my will."

The Marauder lifted the armour's chestpiece out of Sakai's hands and strung a rope through it. He tied the rest of the armour together and slung the entire suit over his shoulder. "What happens if you're wrong?" he asked.

Sakai frowned slightly. Failure was something he had considered of course, but he had never actually paid it any mind. "I'm not," he replied with calm confidence. He was an entity born of darkness. Psychics like Mewtwo could barely sense his presence, much less harm him directly. He was made for this purpose. "Because I've already seen it happen." He turned away, facing the yawning mouth of the cave. "Destiny awaits us, my friends. Our names will live in legend for eternity."

He drew his blade and began his path into the cave. Destiny was waiting for him. He didn't want to keep it waiting.

* * *

The cave had been entirely devoid of life. It had taken him completely by surprise. He had expected a gauntlet of traps or terrifying ancient guardians, but the truth was much simpler and just as terrifying. There was no guardian because a god did not need one.

He stepped out of the tunnel, his hand brushing against the smooth carved wall. The cavern they'd emerged into was large, its ceiling disappearing into the darkness above. Stone pillars lined the sides of the cavern as it narrowed, leading them towards the ancient stone altar at the end of the cavern. He motioned to a pair of his sword swords, Annie and Oakley, who lit the massive brazier in the centre of the cavern with their torches.

A stone statue of Mewtwo's head loomed over the altar, flickering light casting ominous shadows on the god's frowning face as the brazier ignited a network of torches and lamps throughout the cavern.

Sakai crept towards the altar, slowly and cautiously reaching out with his mind. His target was here, he could feel the raw power rippling through the air. All that was left was to wake it up. He drew his midnight blade as he approached the altar. His sword hungrily swallowed the residual energy in the air as he raised it. He looked back over his shoulder at Domino, still standing loyally at his back. "Be ready for anything," he said.

She waved over the rest of his sworn swords, all of them unsheathing their own midnight blades. The flash of a dozen pokeballs lit the cavern brightly for a half a moment before darkness swallowed the group.

Sakai raised his blade, willing the darkness to flow through him. He channeled the power into his blade and watched in utter fascination as the blade warped and rippled with energy. He plunged it into the altar without hesitation.

The effect was instantaneous. The altar split in half at the touch of his blade and crumbled into shadows. A rush of wind blew out the brazier, plunging them into complete darkness. One by one the torches and lamps lit up a pale violet, casting them in eerie light.

_"Who dares?"_ Came a musical voice that thrummed with power. It echoed through the chamber and reverberated in Sakai's skull. _"You have defiled my home with your vile presence. Tell me your names so I may know who will face my wrath."_

Sakai glanced around, searching for Mewtwo in the darkness. They had to strike while the god was still waking. If he were allowed to regain his full strength, not even the specialized armour he had brought would save them. "I am fate, demon. I have come to reclaim humanity's birthright. For too long, we have clung to life on the margins of your new world. I will usher in a new age for humanity with you as my herald."

_"You dare?" _the voice asked. Mewtwo descended from the ceiling, a bubble of violet energy wreathing his body. _"Humanity brought about its own ruin. Hubris and vanity was your downfall, as it always is." _The creature flicked its tail to the side angrily and Sakai felt the pressure build on the edges of his mind. _"You will burn, all of you. Let your deaths be an example to all those who would seek to repeat the folly of ages past." _Mewtwo raised an arm as violet light flared from its eyes. A psychic wind tore through the ancient temple before dying suddenly.

Sakai cocked his head to the side, grinning at Mewtwo knowingly. He raised his midnight blade and watched as the black metal drank in the aura of power around Mewtwo hungrily. "If you're done," he started. "I have a gift for you." He raised his blade and finally let the energy he had been building loose.

A wave of pure darkness poured out of his sword, swamping Mewtwo's protective bubble and dragging the creature down to the ground with them. Mewtwo flared with purple fire that did nothing except feed the ravenous darkness surrounding him.

Sakai held onto his blade for dear life, channeling more of his power through the weapon than he'd ever dared to before. He turned his head, looking at the Marauder and hissing through gritted teeth. "Now!" he ordered.

The Iron Masked Marauder pounded towards Mewtwo, the black helm held high. The trapped god erupted with violet energy and all hell broke loose. The Marauder sailed backwards and smashed into a wall as Sakai's concentration buckled and broke, the stone beneath his feet writhing and bucking him into the wall.

The suffocating darkness gone, Mewtwo raised a three-toed hand, folding the very earth onto itself. Annie and Oakley disappeared with a wet crunch as their blood splurted from the makeshift tomb Mewtwo had just torn from the ground. He turned, his protective barrier flaring to life just as the group's pokemon unleashed hell upon him.

For a brief moment, a star ignited in the cavern. The wrath of more than a dozen pokemon tore and lashed at a god's might. It would not be enough, not even by half. Mewtwo's barrier exploded outwards, catapulting the attacking trainers and pokemon away from the trapped god for a moment of respite. Those closest to the god simply ceased to be, their bodies blasted to pieces by the eruption of power.

Domino slammed the gauntlet she'd been carrying down onto Mewtwo's outstretched arm. He shrieked in pain, a cry so powerful that it nearly forced Domino to drop the god's arm. She grimaced and pulled the strap tight and dug the armour's inner blades into Mewtwo's exposed skin. Dark violet blood spilled onto the floor and Domino's eyes widened at the sight of the god's blood.

She watched the fire in the god's eyes and for a brief moment she could feel the god's mind against her own. She felt the vastness of its hate and felt impossibly small. Centuries of burning hatred had honed its mind into a living weapon that could not be contained. Not even the special armour Lord Sakai had gifted them could have stopped Mewtwo with them still touching.

Domino fell back, her mind simply gone. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her head turned to the side as she simply forgot how to live. Mewtwo released her arm, letting the woman limply fall to the stone. He turned and focused on Sakai with a murderous glare. _"You will burn."_ He intoned, his voice filling the cavern with power. Violet flame rippled along Mewtwo's skin and he raised an arm.

"No!" Sakai shouted. He raised his black blade as a raging shadow coiled around him. The black energy surged forward even as Mewtwo erupted with psychic energy and flung himself at Sakai.

The god disappeared into the wave of darkness. Flashes of violet light split the darkness as he struggled against the black energy. Spectral winds tore through the cavern, fighting for dominance in a vibrant clash of light and dark.

The Iron Masked Marauder hit Mewtwo from behind with all the force of a three-hundred pound man at full sprint. The god grunted as the air was forced from his chest unexpectedly and a dozen black knives stabbed into his back. Violet blood ran in rivers down the god's back as the Mask buckled the chestpiece and pulled it as tight as he could.

Mewtwo abandoned his strategy as his psychic abilities failed him for the very first time in centuries. He pushed off the ground and spun with all the force he could muster. The Marauder lost his grip on the armour and sailed through the air. He hit the cavern wall with a sickening crunch and slid to the ground where he lay motionless. Mewtwo sank back to the ground, panting heavily as the black armour began to take its toll. Violet fire raged on the god's skin, but the smooth black metal eagerly drank it in. His powers were fading quickly, though he still had some fight left.

One of the sworn swords darted in, attempting to force another gauntlet onto the god. He swung his tail like a club and connected cleanly with the woman's head. She toppled over with her neck bent at an impossible angle. Another assailant leapt over her body, again tackling Mewtwo to the smooth stone floor of the cavern. He rolled with the momentum and landed on the man's chest with both feet. He leapt off with as much force as he could muster, leaving behind a mess of crushed bone and sinew as he attempted to flee.

Sakai raised his blade, summoning a wave of shadow at his back. Emboldened by the sacrifices of his sworn swords, he dragged what strength he had left from his being and flung himself at the trapped god. The wave of darkness lifted him into the air and he intercepted Mewtwo with an outstretched hand. He spun on the shadow and flung Mewtwo into the floor using his own momentum. Dust erupted from the impact point as the god hit the stone with impossible speed.

Sakai slowly floated to the ground on the wave of shadow, his attention locked on the impact crater below. "What hubris is this, to believe yourself above us?" Sakai said. "We who created you, gave you life, a purpose, and unrivalled power? You were to be humanity's salvation, and yet you threw that purpose away and cast us down."

Mewtwo stirred, his body twitching erratically as it fought to repair itself. _"I am no slave," _he said. _"Do as you must, Reaper. You know not what your future holds. Fate cannot be denied it's due."_

Sakai knelt down beside the shattered god, lifting a black gauntlet from the floor. "I have made my own fate," he said. "This world will burn by your hand. But in the ashes, a new people will rise above your cruel mistress of fate. We will no longer have need to fear the god of vengeance. For we will be vengeance. We will take back our world from your false gods. You are no more than simple beasts, lording over your petty fiefdoms as if we are your cattle." He buckled the gauntlet over Mewtwo's hand and lifted the black helm. "The time has long since passed. The age of Gods is done. Now it is time for the age of man to begin anew."

_"Fool…"_ Mewtwo said weakly. _"You will fall as did all the others. The gods will not take kindly to this transgression."_

"Good," Sakai said. He forced the helm over Mewtwo's head and pressed his hand onto the smooth black metal. "That'll just make it easier for me to find them." He felt the eons of experience in Mewtwo's mind, and brushed up against the alien consciousness with his own. He felt Mewtwo mount a muted response and brushed away the god's mental defences easily. He would not be defied, not when he was so close to his goal.

Darkness surged through him, rushing through every fiber of his being and into Mewtwo. He held onto the god, purging its mind away slowly and methodically even as its body slowly stitched itself back together. Sakai felt pure rapturous joy rush through him, and then finally peace as the last vestiges of Mewtwo's mind faded away.

Sakai sat back and released his hold on the darkness rushing through him. Fatigue set in as the adrenaline faded. His limbs were burning and his chest heaved with exhaustion. He slowly realized that he was alone, the sworn swords either dead or dying in the chamber around him. Despite the death hanging over him, he couldn't help but allow a satisfied grin to cross his face.

He had done it.

He had won.

Now the world would meet its salvation.

* * *

_This was always going to be the real threat in this story. Sakai has a god bound to his will now. I wonder how that'll go for the "glittering city by the sea". _

_As always, thanks for reading! Please don't forget to drop me a review or send a PM with any thoughts or suggestions if you're willing._


	14. Home

**Arc 4: A Chosen Hero**

**Home**

_Dreams of death shall light the fires._

* * *

The moon laboured across the sky, meandering through the jagged peaks that stretched into the sky. A hundred campfires dotted the sleepy war camp and movement was scarce, save for the sentries that patrolled the edge of the encampment.

Lance sat away from his men, his legs dangling off the sheer edge of the cliffside they had marched along. Blackthorn was less than a day's march away, but he didn't have nearly enough men to take the fortress. He probably barely had enough men to properly besiege the fortress. Betherian shifted her wing to shield them from the wind better and Lance cast his worries from his mind.

Mira shifted on his bare chest, and he pulled her in closer. His armour was long gone, his wife finally persuading him to bathe rather than scout the path ahead for a thousandth time. His hand disappeared into the tangle of auburn hair on his chest and he gently ran his fingers down her bare back. All thoughts of the war left his mind for a peaceful moment and Lance was content to stay there for an eternity.

Mira shifted again and sat up, looking out at the night sky. Her face betrayed her thoughts though, and Lance could see the hurt in her eyes. "Take Clair with you at least," she said suddenly. "The Elders will not hesitate to have you killed the second you and Betherian land."

"Let them try," Lance said. "They will do us no harm." He paused for a moment, then sat up to join her. "They'll never be able to harm us again. No more schemes, no more plots, just order."

"So you do mean to kill them all?" She asked. She did not turn to look at him.

He frowned. "If I must," he started. "Not all the Elders deserve death, but they will stop at nothing to bring us down. I am a living symbol of the fact that things can be different, that we can be different." He turned his head to face her and made no effort to hide the conflict in his mind. "I scare them because they cannot control me. For that crime, they will never stop. This will end with death either way. I will not have it be my death that ends it."

She frowned and finally turned to look at him. "You're just one man."

He smiled knowingly. "One man can bring down an empire if he only dares to. I have brought down one empire that lasted centuries. Who's to say that I cannot bring down another?"

She turned away, her expression sullen. "You stake everything on gambits, praying that will succeed simply because you are bold. When will this madness end?

"When all those who oppose us are left in the ashes of their failure. When the sun rises on a world that does not crave war. When we are finally safe." He paused for a moment, searching the stars for a sign that he was wrong. "I will make the world a better place."

Mira turned back to him, watching him. "Take care that you do not lose who you are. I would not have you lost to the fires of this madness."

Lance smiled and pulled his wife into an embrace. "Stay at my side, and I shall always remember what I am fighting for. You are my world, you are what I fight for."

Mira smiled and kissed him gently. She pushed him back with a coy grin. "Then I am yours, dear champion. Forever and a day."

She rolled on top of him and kissed him fiercely. He lost himself in their embrace and allowed himself to forget the war. Tomorrow was for war. Today could be for something beautiful. A champion could allow themselves that much.

* * *

Fire and death filled his dreams. Dragons and gods, storms and volcanoes, even the earth itself tore asunder beneath Goldenrod. It was all he could do but watch, powerless to stop the destruction of his home and the deaths of all those he loved in a thousand different ways. Every time, the dream ended the same way. A rainbow phoenix rose from the ashes of Goldenrod, dragging a thousand mutilated corpses back from the grave. They cried out for him, reaching for him with hands burnt down to splintered bones. He could do naught but cower in fear as the dead of Goldenrod marched towards him.

Lord Gold woke with a start, groaning in pain as his battered body protested the sudden movement. A month in bed and he'd still not gotten used to the neverending pain. "Guards," he said weakly. "Fetch my healers, I have business that must be attended to."

The guard at the door nodded and stepped out of the small room. The Guard Captain had given up his sleeping quarters for him, so as to give him a closer room to the throne room if necessary. He'd taken it simply out of respect for the man's honour.

The guard returned, a half dozen healers in tow. He bowed deeply to his liege and stepped outside to give the healers their privacy. Lord Gold caught the bustle of the castle as the door closed, and realized that he'd slept until at least midday again.

"I have business to attend to," Lord Gold started. "I must be made presentable to the court."

They nodded and set about to work. Bandages were removed and then replaced, burn ointment slathered on his charred stump of an arm. They slowly and carefully draped a golden cloak over him, obscuring the simple cloth coverings that he wore. It had been too painful for him to don his regular clothing, so this was the best that they could do to feign his good health to the court. Of course, most of the other lords that had rebelled alongside them knew the true nature of his injuries, as well as most of Goldenrod's ruling family. The deception was mostly for the smallfolk and a few of the minor landholders, to assure them of their liege lord's continued good health.

He hadn't deigned to tell young Alexander what had truly happened. The boy was barely a decade old, and needed no prompting to develop delusions of grandeur. Lord Gold could not bear to let his youngest brother, the last trueborn Gold, be spoiled by war. He was not a man yet, he did not need to learn what it was to command men to their deaths. He'd been able to keep the boy busy so far, but there was little he could do as the Lord of Goldenrod to hide himself from his young charge.

Lord Gold couldn't help the wry smile that came to his lips. As if a golden cloak and the veil of distance could hide his pained, limping gait. The blackened stump where his sword hand should have been left little to the imagination as well. He took his cane with his remaining hand and limped off into the bowels of the castle, flanked by the healers and a pair of guards. It would do him no good to dwell on what had happened. It was done. It would never be the same again.

It took him far longer than he had liked to reach the throne room, even with the pair of healers helping him carefully down the lone flight of stairs on the walk from the Guard Captain's room. He strode into the empty throne room and wearily placed himself on the throne with some difficulty.

The healers nodded in respect and stepped out of sight, likely hiding themselves in one of the many small chambers adjacent to Goldenrod's great hall. Lord Gold waited for them to leave before he turned to the guards at the doors and nodded slightly.

The doors opened and his day began with a rush of noise. More complaints from the smallfolk, about the levy that had been raised upon his return, about the taxes that he had increased to pay for the war. He sighed and sat with all the regal strength that he could muster. He could already tell that it was going to be a very long day.

* * *

She appeared at his side after several hours of droll discussion, gracefully gliding into the room and drawing Gold's gaze away from the current complaint. He hardly spared the landholder a glance as she sat carefully beside him, taking care not to put too much weight on his shattered body. Lord Gold simply waved away the landholder, offering a vague promise at his request to lower the taxes raised on the farmlands to the south of Goldenrod.

"What brings you down from the tower?" he asked, letting out a pained grunt as he shifted over to allow his wife more room to sit comfortably on his throne. He placed a hand on her belly lovingly, resting on the growing bump. "You should have sent one of the servants, I would have you rest rather than strain yourself any further." He smiled despite the pain as he looked up at her pretty, soft face. He had never been able to tell if her bright pink hair was natural, though he decided that he no longer cared.

She frowned. Though she had been more fatigued than most women during their first pregnancy, she was still in high spirits. He could tell that she resented the restrictions he had placed upon her for the child's sake. "I am well enough to walk about my own castle," she said curtly. "I thought you would enjoy my company for a while. Lady Jasmine mentioned that you seemed in an especially foul mood this morn."

He frowned at the memtion of the duchess. As grateful as he had been for her assistance, he was not thrilled to be sharing his castle with the prideful woman. "I don't remember this morning," he replied. "Was well after noon when I woke. I have dealt with endless petty concerns since then, all of the fools ignorant of the fact that we are at war."

"Forgive them," she said with an innocent smile that melted his heart. He would never know how the mere presence of his wife was enough to calm his raging heart. He supposed that he didn't care how, just that she allowed him a chance to forget the war. "They know little of the world outside their lives. Much the same as I did, before our marriage."

He frowned. Things had been so much simpler then. He hadnt yet gone off to fight a bloody war. "You would have been a wife to some fat old landlord if we hadn't met."

"And you, married to a stuffy highborn prude like our guest." She smiled and pecked a soft kiss on his cheek. "Thank the gods that father decided to travel to the capital for your coronation."

He smiled at the thought of their meeting. He'd cast aside all tradition when he laid eyes on her, watching from the crowds on that fateful day. He brought her onto the stage with him and professed his desire to spend a single day with the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on.

She refused at first, protesting at the impropriety of it all. But Lord Gold was insistent, and what girl could resist the desire to at least know what a highborn like him was actually like. They had been inseparable since that day. He'd broken his betrothal to the eldest daughter of Lord Pryce and lavished all his attention on the lowborn beauty that had stolen his heart.

He smiled and couldn't help the blush that warmed his cheeks. He looked away, off towards the guards that stood watch over the hall. "Perhaps, you could help me up to our quarters. I have seen enough complaints for the day. Let the stewards handle the rest."

"You would join me in the tower?" The smile on her face brought a flutter to Gold's heart.

He couldn't help the blissful smile that crossed his face. "You'll have to help me up the stairs, but-"

She silenced him with a kiss, pressing fiercely against him as he wrapped his good arm around her. They broke apart breathlessly, and he caught the look of absolute longing in her eyes.

"I am sorry," he said. His expression fell and for the first time since he returned to Goldenrod, he truly let his stoic facade down. The mask that he wore to hide his pain was gone, replaced by a look of mournful regret. "I left to fight one war, and I brought back a new one. I left a part of myself out there, more than just my hand."

She put a single finger to his lips, silencing hIm. "I will hear no more of your regrets. What's done is done. It cannot be changed, as much as you might wish for that." She traced a scar down his face with her finger, it had not been there before he left. It was another marker of what her husband had given for his people. "You did what you have always done, from the very day I met you." She smiled as his eyes lit up with faint hope. "You did the right thing."

He did not respond with words, instead pulling her down to kiss him again. They did not separate for what seemed like an eternity, their heartbeats synced together in beautiful harmony. It was a perfect moment.

* * *

The nightmares came for him again that night. He stood on the great pier of Goldenrod harbour, whole once more. There was no stump where his hand should be, no pain in every breath. He felt strong, yet helpless against the maelstrom that gathered on the Golden Bay. The storm raged against his city, thrashing the storm barriers with fifty-foot swells. The lower slums were already gone, dashed to pieces by the wrath of the sea.

The sky was alive with flame, casting the storm in a terrible red glow. Ribbons of fire twisted through the clouds, casting winged shadows on the storm clouds. A terrifying screech split the night, rainbow light piercing through the clouds and bathing the destruction in sacred light.

A deeper roar answered the holy phoenix, striking a chord deep inside Lord Gold. He knew that roar in every fibre of his being. It was engraved into his psyche, a permanent reminder of the treachery he had wrought.

Ho-Oh broke through the clouds at long last, brilliant rainbows shining from every feather. Gold fell to his knees and wept at the sight. He was not a holy man, but the god of rebirth held a special place in every Johtan's heart. It had been Ho-Oh that had saved humanity when Lugia rose from the sea and waged a devastating war for Ho-Oh's domain. It had been Ho-Oh that granted the first of his house the rainbow wing and named him as the first champion.

Something was wrong though. Reverence turned to fear, then to desperate anger. The holy phoenix was falling, not flying. One wing was tumbling free, the other broken and limp in the wind. There was a rider on Ho-Oh's back, desperately clinging to the shining feathers on the bird's back.

A terrible scream of light split the night, tearing forth from the clouds. It smote Ho-Oh one final times as the god fell. The phoenix hit the water with a plume of steam, driven into the waves by a devastating beam of energy. The ocean swallowed the rainbow light eagerly, dragging Ho-Oh down to the depths as titanic waves thrashed harder at the shore.

Gold fell to his knees, his eyes wide in absolute horror. He closed his eyes, praying with every part of his soul that the nightmare would end.

Another terrifying roar broke the night, so loud that Gold almost took it for thunder. He opened his eyes abruptly and sat straight up in the bed. Cold sweat beaded down his forehead and the mattress was soaked beneath him.

Lady Whitney was still fast asleep, the blanket curled around her naked form. He swung his legs off the bed with a grunt of pain, careful not to wake the sleeping woman. He stood up and stopped suddenly.

Slowly and deliberately, a single feather floated through their open window. It shone with rainbow light, casting an impossibly large shadow on the wall behind him. It landed softly on his writing desk and fell still. Slowly, the brilliant light faded, leaving him in near complete darkness. However the light of the moon still shone through the open window. The rainbow wing sat motionless on his desk, still faintly humming with power.

He grimaced with realization. The nightmares that had been plaguing him were not mere dreams. They were the work of a god, reaching out to him for aid. Ho-Oh was calling for him, reaching out for him in his sleep. Ho-Oh was looking for a champion.

* * *

Jagged black spires rose into the sky, reaching for the peaks that sat impossibly high above. Leathery wings snapped out from the dragon's sides, catching on a warm updraft venting from one of the dragonmont's smoking vents. Betherian lazily flapped once as she descended towards the rocky outcrop near the peak of the dragonmont. The Elder Council was waiting, had been waiting for him to return to his home.

Drakon growled from the smoking pock mark that he'd landed upon. The midnight charizard spat a jet of azure flame into the sky as a blatant warning to the larger dragonite. A dozen responses echoed greetings from the other dragons nestled into their dens on the smoking volcano.

Betherian ignored the charizard's posturing and landed deftly at the mouth of the cave. Lance slipped from her back and nodded his assent to his first dragon. She growled happily before taking wing once more. Lance watched her rise into the sky and circle around to the other side of the dragonmont. Her den was closer to the peak, atop a vent belching thick black smoke into the sky. Lance had only been up to the dragon's den once, and found it too hot even for him. He had seen the glow of liquid magma deeper into the cave and decided against exploring further.

He turned and bowed his head in a respectful greeting as the Dragon Guard, the elite guardsmen of the Elder Council, stepped forward.

The Dragon Guard bowed deeply and rang his spear against the floor once in respect. "Hail, Champion! The Council awaits you."

"I'm sure that they do," he said curtly. "I hereby respond to the summons issued to me by the Council."

The Dragon Guard bowed deeply and stepped aside for him. He rapped twice on the intricately carved doors and nodded to Lance.

He stepped through the doors and stared up at the gallery that ringed the chamber. A hundred bearded old men sat implacable, staring down at him in unison. He walked to the centre of the chamber with his head held high, his cape flowing down around his shoulders and flaring out just above the ground.

Lance remained silent, making sure his eyes met as many of the Elders' as he could. "You have called for me," he started. "Here I stand, as defenceless as any other man. What judgement does this Council deign to give me?"

His voice echoed off the walls of the chamber and bounced around the hundred Elders that made up the Council. None responded until the echo faded and Lance stood in silence. Then he stood, his beard stretching down to his knees. The ancient man regarded Lance with cold, unfeeling eyes. "You stand accused of defying the will of this Council. As well, you stand accused of murder in the highest degree for the death of Lord Envoy Ratari. What say you in your defence?"

Lance grinned with satisfaction as his eyes met the ancient Elder that dared to stand. "I stand guilty of the crimes accused," he started. Murmers of surprise spread across the chamber, but were silenced as soon as they began. "However, I dispute the legality of the charges. With what authority does this Council deign to charge me?"

The ancient Elder's expression morphed into one of anger. "You insolent whelp. You are not above the laws of our people. You have long flouted tradition, but now you have gone too far. Your dragon will not save you. Our word is law-"

"What if it wasn't?" Lance interjected. "Your archaic rule holds back our people. Without it, we would have long since reclaimed our birthright. This Grand Council of Elders has run its course. The blood of the dragon cries out for change!"

His echo faded and he felt the hateful gaze of a hundred pairs of eyes on him. He relished the attention, drinking in the hatred and letting it fuel his own fiery retort. "We will no longer bow to false idols, or pray for the provenance of our ancestors. We will do as those ancestors did and take our place atop this world."

The Elder was motioning to the guard at the door, trying to get his attention. "I charge this Council with treason!" He shouted, tearing the guard's attention back. "The blood of the dragon is alive! It calls out for leadership, which this Council has utterly failed to provide." The Elder was yelling now, but Lance boomed over his voice with ease. "I charge thee with treason for deceiving the people of Blackthorn and betraying the trust of your chosen champion."

The ceiling of the chamber shook, showering the chamber with a thousand loose stones. A hole appeared in the ceiling and Lance grinned knowingly. He spotted a glint of orange scales and turned his head back to the Elder. "For these crimes, I sentence this Council to death!"

The ceiling exploded upon his last word as Betherian finally burst through the last layer of stone. A deluge of magma joined her, slopping heavily to the middle of the chamber. She'd dug straight down through the mountain, bringing along the glowing lava that warmed her den. His dragon scampered away from the flowing lava and bounded over to his side.

The chamber erupted into pandemonium. Dozens of the Elders made for the doors, but found themselves rooted to the spot. Charcoal black scales entered the room, azure fire leaking from the jaws of the midnight charizard. Drakon had come. The Elders fell silent, and Lance knew that he had won. They had not expected him to come in force, not to a place that held such reverence to the dragonkin. They hadn't even known that Drakon existed, much less called him master.

Lance turned to Drakon and closed his eyes, feeling the dragon's ravenous hunger. "None shall leave," he ordered. He didn't not wait to watch how the dragon would interpret the order.

He strode from the room, his cape billowing around him as he turned. He walked out onto the outcropping as the screams of the Elders began to reach his ears. Blackthorn sat far below, waiting and watching as the seat of the ruling class burned away in slow agony. The fortress was his. He was well and truly home.

He swung himself onto Betherian's back as the Dragon Guard closed the intricate carved doors behind them all. Drakon growled at him and took flight, roaring a challenge to the skies.

Lance turned back to look at the Dragon Guard as he stepped out onto the outcropping. "Open the gates. Your champion marches for home."

Betherian didn't wait for an answer, bellowing a victorious cry that echoed through the peaks. She spread her wings and took flight as her master's most determined enemies burned alive in the pyre.


	15. The Traitor's Crown

**Arc 4: A Chosen Hero**

**A Traitor's Crown**

_The dragons wake, the realm will burn_

* * *

Blackthorn had never truly felt like home to him. The Elders had made their displeasure with him known at every chance, and more than once he had fended off a would-be-assassin in the castle town's market. Lance had never felt truly beloved by his birthplace, but that had clearly changed.

Smallfolk lined the road to the keep, chanting the name of their champion. Dozens of Dragon Knights led the way for their procession, an honour guard for the returned King of Johto. All the while, the seat of the Elders still burned brightly against the evening sky.

Lance turned his head to gaze out at the people and marvelled at the size of the crowds. It was as if every single person in Blackthorn had come out to watch his triumphant march on the keep. The crowds they had already passed followed behind them, extending the procession by several thousand more people.

"The people have long waited for this moment, cousin." Clair emerged from the ranks behind him, a smile in her voice. Her icy blue hair was down for once, forgoing her usual tight bun for the celebration. "Perhaps I should have let you convince me of this course sooner."

He turned his head and shot Clair a wide grin. "The Elders no longer control our fate, dear cousin. Perhaps more change is in order?"

Clair raised an eyebrow as they continued their march. "What did you have in mind?"

He smiled mischeviously and whistled a high, sharp tone. Betherian roared a deafening response above them. "Watch me."

Betherian flapped her wings as she descended, buffeting the crowds with gale force winds. She landed at Lance's side and lowered herself to allow her tamer to clamber atop her back.

Lance sat in front of her wings, looking down at the crowds. He closed his eyes, listening to the chanting crowd and drinking in the glory. He immersed himself in their bond and saw the world through his dragon's eyes. "Up."

She bent her legs and launched into the sky with two powerful flaps of her leathery wings. They cleared the black stone gatehouse with ease and spiralled higher into the sky. Betherian roared a challenge that was answered with a cacophony of noise from the dragonmont.

Lance reached out to the burning essence of power, touching the minds of the dragons warily watching his approach. They'd allowed his entry before and he had repaid them by burning the Elders that revered them so. He called to them now, reaching out and begging them to regain their lost glories.

The matriarchs of the mountain knew kin when they felt it. The shared blood of dragon and rider called to them, bringing back memories buried by the passage of time. They were natural rulers, lords of the pokemon world. The world had bowed to them once, before time had made the dragonkin decrepit and decayed shells. Perhaps it was time for the world to bow again.

Lance couldn't help the smile that crossed his face as a dozen pairs of leathery wings unfurled inside their dens. A chorus of dragons met his ears and he knew that they had accepted his unspoken offer. Betherian turned at his urging as the matriarchs and their brood took wing after them. They circled around the dragonmont, roaring challenge after challenge that was repeated and answered a thousand times.

He turned his head to look at the scores of dragons following him, with more dragons not yet able to fly streaming down the dragonmont, and basked in the explosion of raw power following him. He closed his eyes again and reached out for the smaller embers of power burning below. His people possessed the same power he did, just hidden under the surface. It was sleeping, like Drakon's had been. Like his had been before Agatha forced it awake. Lance could feel it now, struggling to answer his calls as the essence of the dragons at his back beckoned for an answer.

He landed atop the gatehouse, glowering down at the stubbornly unlit masses of power. His eyes flared with purple fire, and he felt Betherian and Drakon join him in a booming call to action as he extended his power to the people. **"WE ARE DRAGONS!"** he roared, his voice stirring the struggling embers of power before him. **"EMBRACE THE CALL AND JOIN US!"**

For a moment, nothing happened. Lance's deafening challenge went unanswered for what seemed like an eternity. He stood there, extended to his people in a rousing call to action.

A little girl in the crowd doubled over, shrieking as the dragon's call finally pierced her mind. Lance felt her awakening keenly, brushing against her waking essence and greeting with a wave of his own power. More bursts of power throughout the crowd spread as more of the dragonkin woke, but Lance kept his attention keenly focused on the little girl.

Her skin was darker than the pale white of Blackthorn's denizens, and her garb was strangely foreign. He vaguely recalled mention of an exiled princess among them and made the connection to the olive-skinned girl. Her essence was what struck him the most. It roared at him fiercely and he felt a twinge of awe that one so young would display such power. It was nearly as strong as his, yet the girl could not have been much older than ten.

One of the matriarchs took notice as well, roaring a joyful cry. Lance felt their essences brush together and decided to draw back. If the matriarch was to choose her, then Lance would not intrude on their meeting. It would not be proper and would taint their entire relationship with his touch.

He kept his gaze on the girl as the matriarch descended on the crowd and landed before her. The ancient dragonite bowed her head and sniffed at her curiously. The olive-skinned girl stared up at the dragon in awe and slowly reached up towards her.

Lance finally averted his eyes, scanning the rest of the crowd as the rest of the matriarchs made their choices. Dragons descended on the crowd, searching through the throngs of people for those few dragonkin that called out in response. A satisfied smile crossed his face. These were his people. The dragons had finally woken.

"If you mean to march off to war again, then I am going with you." Lady Whitney glowered at him with anger that he knew he deserved. "You will not face that man again unless I am at your side."

Lord Gold grimaced as he turned to face his wife. He hadn't even told her of the Rainbow Wing, something that she would no doubt berate him for in due time. "I cannot allow that. The levies have been raised, we must rally our strength before Lance can pick us off individually." He rested his remaining hand on her cheek and attempted a smile. "Please, my love. I must do this."

She crossed her arms across her chest. "I fail to see why I must remain in Goldenrod," she retorted as she brushed away his hand. "Surely I would be safer amongst the army than cowering in Goldenrod's gilded tower."

"An army is no place for a childbirth. War camps are rife with sickness and disease." He held up a hand as she opened her mouth to reply. "I will hear no more of this, Whitney. As much as I desire you at my side, I cannot risk you and the child. You carry the heir to a free Johto. Lance would not hesitate to target you to cripple our cause."

Her gaze fell to the floor and she stepped back into their quarters. "So am I just to be a trophy to you? Bear your children and sit dutifully at your side until you run off to war?" She shook her head and looked back up at him. "Do you think me to be a coward?"

He stepped back into the room with her and took her hand in his own. "I think you to be fearless, and that is quite the issue. You are never the one to sit back in safety while those you love risk themselves." He reached up and brushed away a tear that he hadn't seen fall from her cheek. "That is why I need you here. I cannot lose you, for what else do I have left?"

"You are to be a king," she replied.

He threw aside the golden cloak he kept wrapped about his body and held his stump of an arm out to her. The skin had healed relatively well, considering the burns, but his arm was blackened up to his shoulder. Patches of raw, red skin shone through the charred flesh. He was healing, but even still he would never be the same. "I am less than I was before. My body is no longer whole." He wrapped the cloak back around himself and pressed closer to her. "I will not allow my heart and soul to be rent apart if any harm were to come to you."

She stepped back again and shook her head. "Then you will risk losing my love in the vain hope that I will be safer here?"

He nodded slowly, a tortured mix of regret and sadness on his face. It was clear he did not like the choice he had made, a fact worn as plainly on his face as the pain in his gait. But he would not be moved. His word was final.

She turned away and sat at the window overlooking Goldenrod. She did not speak another word, and Gold knew that she would not forgive him for a long while. He turned away and made his peace with that. It was for her own safety, even if she could not understand that. Yet by the time he had reached the base of the tower, he could not be sure if he had made the right decision. Only time would tell him that.

The Duchess greeted him at the base of the tower, along with half his personal guard. She nodded to him and raised an eyebrow. "Thought we'd never get you down from there. Did the Lady Gold required coddling to allow her dear husband leave?"

"Enough, Jasmine," he said, forgoing her titles. It was something that would incense her to be sure, but the woman had grated on his nerves near-daily. She could afford him one such sleight. "Any word from Violet?"

She nodded as they turned. "Lord Falkner has rallied the remaining strength of Cherrygrove and added it to his own. They march to meet us at the crossroads, along with the young Lady of Cherrygrove."

He frowned and his brow creased in frustration. "Lady Lyra is but a child. Does she think war to be a game?"

The Duchess shrugged. "Perhaps she plans to swear her fealty to you in person." She shrugged again. "I know not the mind of a child."

He fell silent for a moment as they trudged through the castle. "Nothing from Azalea?" he asked suddenly as he turned to look at her.

She shook her head. "None. No messages returned and my messenger has yet to report back. It is likely that they have yet to choose themselves another Master to represent them."

He sighed. Bugsy had disappeared at the battle of Tohjo Falls. The few Azaleans that had survived had retreated to their forest home to choose their next master, promising to aid Goldenrod once they had made their choice. "Damn shinobi, always playing their games."

"To be fair, they would add very little to our strength. Azalea sent and lost most of their fighting men at Tohjo Falls. They would be hard pressed to pull together any kind of levy at the moment and we can ill afford to wait for them." They rounded a corner and she bowed her head to him in grudging respect. "I must beg my leave, Lord Gold. My men require my command for the march."

He nodded his head as she turned to leave. As much as their relationship was a web of false loyalty and insincere pledges, they needed each other desperately. He could not push back the dragon without her and she would wear no crown of her own without him. They were forced together, for better or worse. He glanced at his guards and hid his pain behind a stoic façade. "Prepare my carriage. We ride immediately."

Ethan Gold was many things, but more than anything, Whitney felt that he was as stubborn as the tyranitar that he trained. At times, he could be as dense and immovable as the titan of stone. She sighed and sat back in the small carriage he had given her when she asked to travel to visit her father. At least she had not left him the choice. She would join him in Ecruteak, then he would see that she was not some frilly lady like the rest of his former suitors had been. She was a miller's daughter, used to long hours of work. She did not shy away from bloodshed, and had seen and bandaged her father after many a battle with the mill itself.

"Keep us well back of them, Kristal. I don't want Ethan learning that I'm deliberately disobeying him."

The bastard daughter of Goldenrod smirked as she turned to look at the woman in the covered carriage. "Don't fear, my lady. No harm shall come to you on my watch." She pulled back on the reigns and slowed their pace. The rapidash pair whinnied and brayed in frustration at the restraint. They were riding stallions, unused to pulling carriages like common pack tauros.

Lady Whitney nodded absentmindedly as her mind wandered away from the chained stallions. "Thank you, Kristal."

"Please, sis," Kris replied. "Just call me Kris. No point in standing on circumstance on my part. That's Ethan's world."

The pink haired woman sat forward, intrigued by the woman she had enlisted to sneak her out of the city. "And what world would you hail from?" she asked.

There was a long pause before Kris spoke, and Whitney feared for a moment that she might have offended her. "A bastard's life is not a happy one. I was born in Olivine to a Sinnohvan whore that Lord Gold's dear departed father was fond of. When I met the Lord Gold, he was-"

"Not visiting the brothel, I hope?"

Kris tossed back her head and laughed. "No, that man is stubborn and honourable to a fault. Say what you will about the fool, but he will not sire a bastard. He has too much pride to dishonour his beloved wife like that."

"Then where did you meet him?" Whitney asked, steadying herself as the carriage rolled over a particularly egregious bump.

"I was hired to kill him," Kris said, turning to shoot a mischievous smile at her. "Some minor lordling had a tax dispute and was due a visit from his liege. I had no idea I was anything more than a whore's wretch until the noble Lord Gold marched half a hundred men into the lordling's hall and demanded that the man break bread and eat with him." She smirked, lost in an old memory. "Imagine his surprise when the spitting image of his departed father came at him out of the shadows that night."

"He must have thought he'd seen a ghost."

Kris leaned back and smiled happily. "That's exactly what he thought." She twirled her fingers in her locks of pale blue hair. "My hair was cut short, near down to the scalp. I'd been masquerading as a man for years, scraping for every contract I could find. I was thin and malnourished, but still strong as any man would have been." She smirked and let her hand fall back to the rapidash's reigns. "He'll tell you that we duelled to a standstill, that we fought and discovered a mirror of ourselves."

Whitney raised an eyebrow. She'd heard Ethan say that he considered Kris an equal in battle many times. "I take it that the story isn't entirely true?"

Kris shot her a merciless smile and the Lady of Goldenrod felt a chill of fear run down her spine. Her mind wondered whether that smile had sent the same rush of fear down Ethan's spine. "Parts of it are true. We duelled in his quarters that night. He had been awake, staring out his window when I crept into the room. Had he managed to release even one of his pokemon, I would have been killed then and there. But I was smart and fast, and a far better swordsman than he could ever have prayed to be. I pressed my advantage and disarmed him before he could turn the battle against me."

"So you won?"

"Easily." She paused and Whitney watched her gaze fall from the sky to the road in front of them. "I asked him for his last words, to deliver to his kin…" Her voice trailed off and she turned her head. "He had no words and looked into my eyes with some kind of suspicion. He asked me who my father was instead of offering any words."

Whitney shuffled closer to Kris, engrossed in the tale. "Did you know yet?"

Kris shook her head. "Told him that my father was a patron at a whorehouse. That I never met the bastard and I'd likely cut off his manhood if I ever did." She smirked again. "The cheeky bastard laughed out loud and confessed that he had feared I was a bastard brother, come to claim his throne. He told me that I was unmistakeably the child of his late father, who had made quite a habit of peppering his seed across Johto."

Lady Whitney sat back and studied Kris' face for a long moment. She shared the same proud nose and high cheekbones that Ethan had, though her face was thinner and leaner. They were unmistakeably kin if you ignored Kris' cold blue hair, something her sinnohvan mother had given her. "I see the resemblance," she said. "You look just like him, save for the hair."

Kris shook out her long locks of cool blue hair and flashed Whitney a smile. "And the tits, though that's not for lack of effort on Ethan's part."

Whitney chuckled at the mention of her husband's voracious appetite. At times, he ate nearly as much as the rest of the table did, something that Whitney had not hesitated to chide him for. The carriage hit another bump and she placed a hand over her stomach.

Kris glanced over and frowned. "You should rest, My Lady. I may have smuggled you out of the city but I will not allow any harm to come to you."

Whitney looked back at the crudely fashioned bed of travel cloaks she had made in the back of the carriage. "I am fine," she protested. "I tire of this constant rest. I am with child, not on my deathbed."

Kris shot her a look that struck fear down Whitney's spine. "You will rest," she commanded. "Or I will return you to Goldenrod myself."

Lady Whitney turned as her protestations died in her throat. She slowly and carefully returned to her bed in the carriage, resigned to spending the whole trip on her ass. She lay herself carefully on her side and closed her eyes. It would be a long trip. At the very least, she could pass some time asleep. It wasn't as if she had anything else to do.

He sat atop a new throne, forged just last night from slick black stone that had been licked clean of its impurity through dragonflame. The palace was still swarming with hatchlings and juvenile dragons, remnants of the horde from the dragonmont that had not bonded with any of the smallfolk the day before. Hundreds upon hundreds of the lower lordlings and their smallfolk had paraded through his throne room, all hoping to claim one of the dragons that had gathered to their champion.

Mira sat at his side, seated in Blackthorn's old mottled grey steel throne and garbed in dazzling green. She tipped back her goblet, draining the goldwine in a long sip. Her new hatchling was coiled around her free arm, nestling his arrowhead-shaped head atop her shoulder. The dratini had taken an instant interest in his wife, despite her lack of dragon's blood. It had confused Lance to no end, though he could not hide the joy that simple fact gave him.

Lance nodded as one of the dragonkin stepped into the throne room, flanked by a pair of his dragon knights. A tall, wiry man with a messy crop of jagged black hair atop his head met his eyes from across the room as the knights bowed their greetings and announced the new visitor. He felt his essence enter as well and realized that the man had bonded with one of the matriarchs. He vaguely recognized the man, but he could not place his face's hard, tempered features.

Lance rose from his throne and looked down the steps of the dias towards the man. "What is your name?"

The man's dark brown eyes met his own and Lance felt the man acknowledge his dominion. "Drake, if it pleases the champion."

"Drake who?" Lance continued. "I would know the origins of one who would claim a matriarch."

The man smirked, his smile crooked and half-open. "Just Drake, if it pleases the champion. Me parents were smallfolk from the stone road, they never gave me any other name. I see no reason to change that."

Lance nodded and descended the steps of the dias. "Walk with me, Drake." He glanced over his shoulder at Mira, who lazed back on her throne and held out her goblet for a waiting servant. Satisfied that he would not be needed, he strode from the room with his jet-black cape billowing out around his ankles.

He walked purposefully through the castle, not deigning to engage in frivolous small talk with the dragonkin. Drake remained stoically silent, something that Lance noted and appreciated. They finally rounded the last corner and emerged onto a balcony that overlooked the western approach to Blackthorn.

Drake greeted the eleven other dragonkin with the same stoic glare that he had given Lance. He turned to face Lance along with the others as Lance stepped up to the railing and looked out over his city.

"The twelve of you have bonded with the matriarchs of the dragonmont. I hope that I do not need to impress upon you the significance of that."

No answer met his ears as Lance looked down at the men drilling in Blackthorn Keep's castle square. More men and boys were gathering every day to enlist in his new army, but it was slow going. Lance grimaced with the sullen thought of armies bearing down on Blackthorn before he could raise disparate farmers' sons and noble recruits into a coherent fighting force. It did not help that fighting alongside dragons was a half-forgotten art.

"At the moment, Blackthorn stands practically defenceless," he continued. "Barely half a thousand fighting men remain, and though we are swamped with recruits we have not the time it would require to train them." He turned to look at the dragonkin, his brow furrowed in solemn frustration. "The thirteen of us stand as the greatest force that Blackthorn has at its command. It is up to us to buy time until a proper host can be raised for battle."

A murmer rippled through the twelve, but none presented any objection. Lance knew they would not. They were kin, and the rabble that had betrayed him would clamor for their heads alongside his once Blackthorn was sacked. They were Blackthorn's best chance at survival, a fact which all seemed to know and accept without words.

He turned to look back out at the western approach and frowned. "We must strike at our enemies, tear their attention away from Blackthorn and force it back upon their own lands. The Gold Coast, and all those who claim allegiance to her golden banners must burn."

Drake broke his silence, becoming the first of the dragonkin to speak. "What would you have us do?"

He sighed and felt his conscience protest what he was about to do. He brushed it away and felt his hand instinctively rest atop the pommel of the blade on his hip. "Go and show Johto what they have forgotten. Show them the fire of the dragonlords, burn their holdfasts and light their granaries into fresh pyres. Give them reason to fear us once more."

The dragonkin greeted him with a salute as one. He nodded back and turned back to look out over the city. "Iris," he called, watching the dark-skinned girl perk up at her name. "I have a special task for you."

She bowed her head in respect. "Yes, your worship."

He raised an eyebrow at the honorific. "Your worship? That's a new one. I've heard every title under the sun, but that is new."

He saw the girl's eyes widen as she feared she'd made a grave offense. "I beg your pardon, champion. I am young, and unused to so many grand titles. Would the champion prefer a different title? Perhaps he would prefer to be called the Dragon King like his father before him.

"Leave them," he commanded softly. "I have never been one for grand titles and this war has seen fit to bestow upon me half a hundred new ones." He wrinkled his nose and frowned. "Dragon King is but the worst of all. I cannot help but feel my stomach turn at the sound of the same title my father once thought to claim."

She looked confused and Lance could see the question burning on her lips. He nodded his assent before the girl burst from effort of holding in her question. "Why is that, champion?"

He sighed long and slow, and couldn't help the look of frustration that crossed his face. "You're brave to ask this of me, little one. Men have died for asking after that story."

"I am no man," she said and Lance felt the embers of power in her quicken. "and this place is strange to me. Forgive my ignorance, for my tutors do not spare time for the bloody history of people not my own."

Lance crossed his arms and could not help the scowl that crossed his face at the thought of that cruel mistake of a man that had fathered him. "It is a story that I would rather the world forgot, if only to deprive my father of the legacy he craved so desperately." He softened his scowl slightly for the girl. "It is not a happy story, full of death and betrayal."

She nodded her head toward him and smiled innocently. "I would dearly love to hear this story."

He sighed heavily and looked back out over the city. His shoulders sagged and he felt nothing like the proud champion that he had built himself into. The memories were rushing back and he felt like the meek child that he had once been. "Then hear it you shall," he said reluctantly. He turned and drew himself back to his full height. The meek child was gone again, the noble warrior standing in his place. "My father was one of the last pureblooded dragonkin, born to Wataru clan under auspicious stars. From birth, he was raised to believe in his superiority, that he was destined to reclaim the throne our ancestors had built from the Ghost Queen."

Iris nodded slowly. "Much like my counselors and tutors would have me believe that Unova calls out for me to take my birthright."

He nodded. "Much the same." He frowned and looked down at his hands. "He believed them wholeheartedly, and believed his birthright to be waiting for him. He was wrong."

"What happened?"

"He called his banners and crowned himself as Dragon King, believing Queen Agatha to be weak in her old age. She had ruled from Indigo for nigh on a hundred years, with whispers that she had been the true power behind the King before her."

Iris raised an eyebrow at that. "Magi only grow more powerful with age, until their ghosts finally escape control and take them. What would make him believe she would be weak?"

"Arrogance," Lance spat. "He believed that Johto would fall in line behind him, that the Empire of the Dragon could rise again. He believed in the old fools on the council, and the lies they fed him to nurture his ambition."

"And none of the banners came when called?"

Lance fought to hide the shame on his face. "Not one," he said bitterly. "Blackthorn stood alone when the ghosts came. We never stood a chance by ourselves." His face morphed into a mask of barely hidden fury and he clenched his fists. "She slaughtered most of the dragonkin, leaving only a few decrepit old men and dead dragons in her wake. In a single battle, our greatest strength was wiped away."

"And what happened to the would-be-king?" Iris asked, studying him with calculating eyes.

"He fled into exile, stripped of his titles and his power. He died a bitter old man, hated and pitied equally by all." He looked up from his clenched fists and met her eyes. "Which is where I was born, into the household of a bitter man bent on revenge and reclaiming his lost honour."

"And somehow, your path has led you to his destiny. You have taken the throne that he claimed, and cast down the queen he fell to," she remarked cooly. "Amusing, the tricks that fate plays upon us. We are all puppets dancing to the will of the gods."

He smirked and the shame fled from his face. "Perhaps we are," he started cryptically. "Perhaps that shall soon change. An age is ending. The gods are not what they once were, and neither are we."

An intrigued look crossed her face. "What do you mean by that, champion?"

An honest smile crossed his face as he met her eyes with his own piercing gold gaze. "Join me in the morning. I had planned to make for the Lake alone, but I think you would enjoy the ritual at my side," he said. "Perhaps then, the scope of our war shall be made clear to you."

She smiled and bowed her head in respect. "As you wish, champion."

He nodded back as she turned to leave. He couldn't help but marvel at the flickers of flame within her once more, and then she was gone.

Light bent and rippled at the edge of the balcony and revealed the shape of a man. His flowing purple robes hugged close to his figure, cutting a slim and slender man. "Are you sure that it is wise to trust her, Lance? She is not one of us."

"But she is, Will," he replied. "She is just like me, burning just as brightly. I am sure of it."

He nodded and bowed his head. "As you wish, champion." He held out a thin metal belt, engraved with intricate runes from a long-dead language. "For the record, I still think this is madness. Magikarp are nothing, less than even the most worthless hatchling. What you seek to do has never been done."

"Nothing that I have done has ever been done before," Lance growled. "I am the dragon like none before me were. I have woken my people from their slumber."

"People are one thing," Will replied. "Half of Blackthorn can claim descent from one dragonlord or another. Magikarp are useless fish! They will not-"

"Silence," Lance said coldly. "Do not doubt me again." He clenched his fist over the pommel of his blade and wished a silent prayer. "For I cannot afford to doubt myself, else all shall be lost."

* * *

_My apologies for the wait here. I don't really have any excuses for the delay, since this sat completed for nearly a week before I actually managed to post it. _

_Hope you all enjoy your summers! Stay safe, peeps!_


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